Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case
by Z Cloister Black
Summary: The world cries 'Kira' once again, nations weep, and criminals tremble. Can no one stop the madness that once more encompasses the world in darkness?
1. Darkness

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 1

June 15, 2027, 12:42 PM.

In our unstable world, normality can swing in or out with the mood of a single man. One ounce of ambition has the potential to grow and rework the present and future. A decision, a vow, a resolution; all can become blessings or curses, miracles or horrors. The world was once left up to the task of deciding for itself whether one man had the right to make a universal decision; whether this man had the right to judge not only one other man, but an entire population.

The judging of others had thus become a grave affair; even the judges of the previously sane court systems around the world were frowned upon, and death as a punishment was condemned as disturbing and twisted. One man, the cause, and an entire planet, the outcome. But the darkness was relieved, and the psyche of the shaken population was eased and calmed. The clouded skies cleared to reveal a sun – beautiful, shining retribution in the form of pure, intact sanity. All of the man's judgments were undone as the world fervently pursued true justice, that which doesn't cause such harsh repercussions.

Sanity can only last so long, though. It takes a mere two letters to transform it to insanity, and a mere moment of decision-making, an instant of revolutionary thinking, an inkling of darkness to erase and shroud the light. These changes were coming as they had been bound to, and the world was weak, vulnerable, and unsuspecting. Leaders would creep into corruption, nations into sorrow, wrongdoers into terror, and one man into authority. These events are thus told.

"I honestly don't care what they think; the whole thing is a crock," Andrew Powers said to his neighbor Jack Johnson, who had been sitting on the couch lazily reading a magazine.

"I disagree," he responded to Andrew as he flipped through the magazine article up for debate, "I don't think it's entirely impossible. It happened once, it can happen again, right?"

"You read the police report, Jack. The original Kira was some man who, if he hadn't died, would have gone over the brink and straight into a mental hospital."

"Yeah, but two prisoners having violent deaths within an hour of each other-"

"It's not unheard of. If Kira had never been around we wouldn't have even heard about those deaths."

"This magazine wouldn't be around if Kira hadn't," Jack pointed out as he held up the thin volume titled _KS_. _Kira Society_ _Magazine_ was the symbolic remnant of the followers of Kira, and was entirely underground. It contained testimonials from people whose worst experiences were once solved by Kira, any news that could possibly be even remotely related to a Kira-esque character, and any other noteworthy material its unknown editor chose to throw in.

"Good point. But, honestly with any deaths aside, what are the odds of a new Kria _ever_ appearing? The reports said he murdered with a magic book. What are the chances of another one of those existing? If that magazine staff were authentic they would have done better research. The police report is simple to access, however obscure it may be."

"Hey, it's not as easy for people like me; you're practically an expert hacker. But either way I suppose you're right. One can always hope, though."

"Yeah, I guess that couldn't hurt."

--

Still June 15, 2027, 7:26 PM.

In the realm of the Shinigami, life has been reduced to complete disinterest. With no intruiging killing sprees to gaze at during their breaks from gambling, they wandered endlessly in boredom. Even the most ambitious Shinigami found it difficult to set their minds straight. The Shinigami King himself seemed to be napping.

But even for the death gods, calamity never seemed to follow too far behind. The Shinigami called Kinddara Guivelostain had a reputation for being bullish, cruel, and antisocial, but she didn't let that stop her from demanding help when she had troubles. In this particular moment she does have troubles, and goes right on to incessantly pester her fellow Shinigami. She had lost her Death Note, the killing machine of the gods.

"I said tell me!" Kinddara screamed as she flung Deridovely violently to the ground, "You've got to have seen it!"

"I swear!" he cried desperately in response, "I haven't seen it anywhere! Are you sure you didn't drop it into the human world?"

"Wouldn't you think I would know if I did!?" she roared.

"Well, you would think," he muttered, "but honestly I don't know about you."

"What did you say!?"

"Let's calm down here!" Shazma interjected, "I'm sure there's a better way of going about this."

"You're that new girl!" came Kinddara's rude response, "What do you know about my Death Note?"

"I honestly don't know anything, but there must be a way to find it without killing your friend here."

"Trust me, I can't kill him and he's not my friend."

"Why don't you just try looking down into the human world to double check?" a nearby Shinigami called plaintively as he tried to gamble in peace.

"I know I didn't drop it! Whenever I'm by the gates I'm either using it or don't set it down! I'm not that stupid!"

"Let's not jump to hasty conclusions…" Deridovely remarked.

"I think it's a fine idea just to check," Shazma said, "After all, what do you have to lose?"

After what must have been some intense thought for her, Kinddara decided to give the idea a shot. They walked swiftly to the Gate Region and sat down around one of the protruding domes. Kinddara looked intently into the orb, focusing on anything similar to her notebook. And then something happened. Her field of vision was shifted right to a small coastal town in Oregon, United States. She could see her Death Note clearly lying in a public park. A man was looking at it.


	2. Discovery and Entertainment

Chapter 2

June 17, 2027, 5:35 PM

"I can't believe it! This is amazing!"

Jack Johnson was practically jumping up and down as he listened to the news report in Andrew Power's living room. Andrew sat on the armchair behind him smugly, a small smile on his face. The news reporter on the screen was talking hurriedly and nervously, his voice slightly muffled by a black cloth over his nose and mouth. Where his name would usually go at the bottom of the screen was a black bar. The emergency headline read: Seventeen Prisoners Die of Cardiac Arrest in Two Days.

Andrew switched the channel abruptly to another news broadcast, this headline reading: Sudden Inmate Deaths Herald Supposed Return of Supernatural Killing Force. The anchorman was speaking of a displeased entity wreaking newfound havoc on his tainted subjects. Jack was cheering even more fervently now as he heard the entity's name on the news for the first time since he was ten years old: Kira.

Andrew stood up looking gratified as he switched the TV to a local news channel and walked over to his desk. Jack watched him curiously as he pulled out of his drawer a small, crimson red notebook and a pen.

"Watch the scenario on the screen for six minutes and forty seconds," Andrew demanded abruptly. On the news channel was a live broadcast from Seattle, Washington of three bodies lying in the middle of the road. The bodies were being surrounded by police vehicles and ambulances, and walking with a few officers to a car was a large man in handcuffs. The bottom of the screen explained that the large man was Harold Warvel who had just used a semi-automatic rifle to rob a small bank, 

killing three civilians on his way out the door. By that time the police had already set up positions to arrest him, and promptly did so.

Andrew scribbled something into the red notebook and looked at the screen satisfactorily. Jack gave him a confused look and continued to watch as the police started to load him into a police car. The reporter finished talking and the channel went on to other news.

"Should I be concerned…?" Jack asked.

"Just keep watching. I bet you anything that they continue to cover the massacre in just a few more minutes."

They both turned back to the screen and listened to a stock market analysis for three and a half minutes. Then the market expert finished and the screen returned to the front desk. The anchorman spoke of an urgent broadcast in regards to the armed robbery from earlier that day, and the camera returned to the attack scene. The car that had been hauling Harold was pulled over and he was lying in the road covered in blood. The police surrounded him with guns trained as the reporter gave the story.

"After being driven about half a block north on Central Avenue the arrested suspect is said to have gone into a state of insanity, using his head to smash out the window next to him. He was of course unsuccessful in breaking free, but he soon beat himself nearly unconscious. Police pulled over to stop the man, but as they opened the door he is said to have leaped out at them and fallen over onto the street, an officer shooting him in self defense. As of yet the victim is assumed seriously wounded, but there hasn't been any detected motion in some time…"

"Amazingly accurate isn't it?" Andrew said, grinning. Jack once again turned to him confusedly.

"Hm?"

--

Kinddara Guivelostain was not pleased. In fact, to put things more correctly, she was absolutely livid. This arrogant man in front of her had bossed her around one time too many. It's as if he thought he owned her. She had been worn to the last nerve.

The moment she saw her notebook in the human world lying in that public park, she had leapt into the portal and flown as fast as she could to stop anyone from picking it up. But by the time she had arrived at the scene, the book was in the hands of a tall man with short brown hair. He was staring at it curiously, but on looking up to see the frightening creature charging at him ferociously, he threw it in the air and fled behind a nearby tree.

She stopped to pick it up, but then some innate impulse made her leave it lying begrudgingly. What had just happened was irreversible: the notebook had landed into the human realm and thus belonged to that man now. If she took it without his spoken consent then that would be breaking a rule. She had witnessed enough punishment in her day.

"Don't just stand there cowering!" she demanded of the terrified man, "Hurry up and come here!" The man slowly composed himself and made his way towards the large creature with stitches seeming to hold the two halves of her head together. Her large, sharp teeth glinted ominously as he stood before her. "Pick up that book."

He bent over and lifted it up, his eyes on the creature all the while. "Now hand it over and say: I forfeit ownership of this note to you." He stared at her blankly, making a motion with his arm but hesitating. "What are you waiting for?!"

"Why do I have to say that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because I can't just take it from you, you officially own it."

"What exactly is this that I suddenly own.?" Andrew Powers said, realization suddenly dawning on him.

"I don't think that's any of your concern, it's mine," Kinddara scowled impatiently.

"But you just said I'm its official owner. Doesn't that make me entitled to an explanation of what it is? And it must be pretty important for you to be making this kind of a deal over it."

"You've caused me too much trouble already; you're not worth an explanation."

"Then I'm not giving it up," Andrew said defiantly.

"What?! Don't you even bother wasting my time, human! Just hand it over!"

"I'm going to my apartment where we can talk in peace, Shinigami. Come if you want any hope of having your notebook back."

Kinddara stared mutely after him, stunned by his knowledge of her. She fluttered angrily after him, up two stories into his nearby apartment building. She waited hunched over in his living room window, taking in the bland décor. A few moments later he emerged through the doorway with the notebook held delicately in his hands.

He walked over to his desk, ignoring furious objections coming from the Shinigami in his window. He drew a pen from his drawer and clicked on the TV. On the news was an update on a week-long kidnapping case, a man and his wife who had abducted four young girls and disappeared into the wilderness.

Andrew opened the notebook as if it were a sacred object and wrote down the names of the man and woman on TV into it. He turned back to Kinddara and stared at her hopefully for a moment, the look stunning her to silence.

"Tell me, Shinigami, what did I just do?" he asked as he stared at her intently.

"Excuse me?" was the only response from the bewildered creature.

He smiled. "Am I correct in thinking I just did those girls a service in writing those peoples' names here?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she screamed falsely.

Andrew gave a small laugh before turning to look at the notebook admirably. "You're answer says it all, Shinigami."

--

The four Shinigami sat around the portal to the human realm looking smug. It had been a good three hours since Kinddara had torn towards that park, and now seeing this human making her so angry entertained them more than they had thought possible in their boring world. Deridovely was rubbing his wounds from her in glee, seeing the retribution he knew he could never give her coming from this little human.

"I can't believe she is so incredibly stupid," the Shinigami Gukku cackled.

"She didn't even bother listening to you, did she Ryuk?" Deridovely giggled excitedly.

"No, she was halfway to the park before I had even said anything," Ryuk responded, "She flew after him so fast, there wasn't even a chance for her to realize he had already picked it up (hyuk hyuk)."

"Now she's doomed to stay down there until that guy dies," Shazma spoke up, "And there's absolutely nothing she can do about it; that she knows about anyway."

"Yeah," Ryuk said, "I tried to tell her she could just kill the guy and come back, but so much for that."

"And the Old Man knows she never learned the rules," Gukku laughed.

"You know," Deridovely said, "I don't think she even bothered to get another death note. She was so worried about the old one."

"Isn't it against the rules not to own one?" Shazma asked.

"I think so," Gukku responded.

"Well I can tell ya one thing," Ryuk said as he remembered a certain situation of his own in the past, "whether she's breaking a rule or not, she won't be coming back for a while. I've seen that look on a human before, and it wasn't a good look then, I guarantee it's not a good look now."

"Sucks to be her," Deridovely said nonchalantly as he walked away.

"You said it," Gukku said as he got up and followed him.

"Is there anything we can do?" Shazma asked.

"Hyuk hyuk. You could either get the Old Man to change the rules or you could just sit back and watch like the rest of us."


	3. Some Alliances

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 3 - Some Alliances

Still June 17, 2027

Jack Johnson sat in Andrew's living room mutely, listening to him speak with a look of awe on his face. He had come to his neighbor's apartment earlier that day to celebrate with him the news of Kira's apparent return. Never had he dreamed that it would turn out to be this kind of a celebration.

When he arrived Andrew was already watching the news broadcasts and so they sat together and listened to the multiple different views for a good while. They laughed together in scorn at the news channels that told of an evil killer's return, and smiled in victory at those that spoke of the return of Earth's true defender.

But Andrew seemed different. He wasn't as excited as Jack, and sat there smiling the whole time, as if he had his own little joke. Just as Jack was starting to get annoyed, Andrew changed the channel to some armed robbery. His behavior changed as abruptly as the channel.

Jack watched him write something down, and then watched the robber get arrested as he instructed. His confusion grew as the broadcast went back to show the man dead in the street, shot by a cop. Andrew burst out laughing and stated something about accuracy. Jack was getting really impatient, thinking that was not the time for some stupid joke.

But Andrew just looked at him and went and retrieved the notebook he had written on.

"Do you remember how Kira killed, Jack?" he asked.

"Um, yeah, the police report you read me said something about a murder book, or something like that."

Andrew turned around and smiled as he held the book in his grasp triumphantly. Jack stared at it and then backed up, a terrified look on his face.

"Y-You," he stammered.

"You're starting to figure it out," Andrew laughed.

"Th-That can't be…"

"Did you not think that it was destiny, Jack?" he went on dramatically, "Were we not the only real believers left? I found this book because you and I are the only ones that can resurrect the ideals. We were chosen." Somewhere in the back of Andrew's mind he could hear a screeching voice yelling at him about an accident. He tried to ignore it.

"Th-That's not possible!"

"It is possible, and you've no choice but to believe it. The evidence is undeniable, and I have more if you want it!" he cried passionately as he opened the book in his face with a list of names written down. The screeching voice still nagged at him.

Jack stared at the list, pairing perfectly with the past two days' victims. He stared at it frightened at first, but gradually a large grin broke across his face, and his body was soon shaken with uncontrollable laughter. Andrew smiled victoriously, having found another he knew would remain with him in the worst of times.

After he recovered from his momentary loss of self-control, Jack stood up behind Andrew and followed him to his desk.

"If you're Kira and that is the murder book," he asked to be interrupted.

"Actually its proper name is Deathnote," Andrew stated.

"Deathnote then, how did you get it? Was it handed to you by a god or something?"

"Not exactly," _Not at all!_ The screeching voice sounded in his head, "I wasn't chosen so to speak, but I would hardly call it chance that it was dropped right where I could find it in the place I go to clear my head every morning."

"So you weren't singled out to be Kira?" Jack said disappointedly.

"Not by the Shinigami who dropped this, no," he said slightly disappointed himself.

"Shinigami?!" Jack cried.

"Oh yes, I never told you," Andrew said, "I did some research once on rumors surrounding the police report, for those talented enough to hack in and read it, and one said Kira must be a Shinigami, a Japanese death god."

"But we know that's not true, they arrested a man and gave him the death sentence."

Note: of course we know this to be false, it was not exactly a death sentence Kira received.

"Actually, it's not entirely incorrect," he stated knowingly, "I don't know the circumstances surrounding the first Kira's retrieval of one of these, but all of them are originally owned by some Shinigami, so they were involved in his killings as well."

"So did you actually get to see a Shinigami?"

"Unfortunately," _Hey! _Sounded the voice again, "Whoever finds one of these that lands in the human world is forced to have its original owner follow him around until he dies. The first Kira's must not have been so annoying, because I would never have lasted five years with this thing following me."

Jack looked around excitedly, but was confused to find no one there. "Where is it?" he asked.

"Shinigami," _I have a name!_ Came the unheard reply, "You said there was a way for others to see you, but you never told me what it was. I would like this information now."

Andrew stared at a blank spot on the wall for a while looking disgusted, but finally he sighed a word of thanks in that general direction.

"Touch this notebook, Jack." Jack reached out and touched the notebook and was instantly overwhelmed by a grotesque sight standing in the corner of the room. It was tall, tattered looking, and had a split right down the middle of its head with stitches holding it shut. It was speaking in an obnoxious screechy voice something about the stupid man never giving her any respect and how he was conceited and she couldn't stand the time she had to spend with him.

"That's a Shinigami?!" Jack cried as he fell down on his backside.

"You got a problem with the way I look, human?!" she demanded.

"N-No, um, your godliness, I didn't mean to offend you," he stammered.

"Ah, don't worry about her," Andrew said, "She's hardly worth the apologies."

"And that's another thing!" Kinddara screamed at him, "You demean me and belittle me every chance you get and it's really starting to get on my nerves! If there weren't a rule punishable by death that I can't kill a human without a Deathnote I would be all over you like a bad itch!"

"It's funny how the only rules you seem to have bothered to learn are the ones relating to your own punishment," Andrew said mockingly, "Maybe you've had experience with those in the past."

"Maybe it's best not to upset her," Jack said as Andrew shot him a glance, "I mean, since you're going to have to stay with her until you die, you might as well be on good terms."

"We've been on bad terms since we've met!" Kinddara yelled, "I dropped the only thing keeping me alive, and he won't give it back!"

"It's keeping you alive?" Jack questioned.

"Yes. Shinigami don't live forever unless they add people's life spans to their own with the Deathnote," she explained impatiently. "I need it to survive and he's being selfish and keeping it just so he can be some stupid killer!"

"I am not some stupid killer!" Andrew retorted, "Let's get that straight right now and perhaps we can cooperate. How many years do you have left?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Well, do you have more than me? At least tell me that much."

Kinddara thought hard for a moment, debating whether she would be divulging too much. "Yes, I do," she decided to let slip.

"Well then what's the worry?" Andrew asked, "You just let me 'borrow' it until I die and then you can make up for lost time afterwards."

She thought hard again and then let out a sigh. "Fine, but I want to get a little more respect out of you if I'm going to stay."

"It depends on if you keep yelling at me all the time."

"Fine, I won't yell if you don't insult me."

"Then that settles things!" Jack said brightly after watching the intense debate.

"And one more thing, for both of you!" she added.

"Yes?" they said simultaneously.

"I have a name, and I want to be called by that; no more Shinigami or 'your godliness' junk."

"Okay, what is it?" Andrew asked.

"Proves how much you've been listening!" she spat out, "I've told you four times, but I guess I'll say it once more. It's Kinddara, Kinddara Guivelostain; Dara for short."

"Fine, I'll call you by your name and stop insulting you if you don't yell and let me keep this until I die," Andrew said with finality.

"It looks to me like Kira is back," Jack smiled optimistically.

"Mm hmm," Andrew nodded, with slightly different thoughts playing in the back of his mind.


	4. New Problems

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 4 - New Problems

June 19, 2027

Andrew Powers and Jack Johnson. Partners, one could call them. On the date of June the 18 they set up the official process of punishing criminals. Since Andrew was the official owner of the Deathnote, they agreed that he would be the full-time keeper of it as well. He would write down all the names throughout his free time as he saw fit, and Jack would keep his own list of names that he sees Andrew miss. Every Saturday they would meet to check off Jack's list, question Kinddara about rules, since she was adamant that she didn't have to tell them any unless they asked if she didn't want to, and share any thoughts they may have.

They would also flip through their new connection to the world, _KS Magazine_. Ever since Andrew found the death note and began to use it, the Kira Society was striving anew. The editor recruited an entire board of directors from the newborn and renewed worshippers around the world and increased the flimsy volume to a weekly regular of about forty pages. The number of Kira testimonials increased, one man inputted a list every week of the criminals who had died, and several sent in names and photos of those they wished dead and their reasoning.

Saturday the 19 was their first official meeting, and at seven o' clock p.m. Jack arrived at Andrew's door. They proceeded to check all locks and close curtains and blinds, and never spoke in too loud of voices.

"Jack, I've got a problem," Andrew spoke abruptly as soon as they were sure they were safe.

"It's been a day since I've seen you and you already have a problem?" Jack burst out loudly to some chuckles from Kinddara, who was laying on the futon behind them.

"It's not so much a real problem yet, just a concern."

"In this kind of situation I don't see the difference," Jack said impatiently, "Now what's your problem?"

Andrew made an angry face with his back turned, not liking the tone Jack had taken. It was his operation, and he decided what there was to worry about. Jack had no place to scold him like that. He ignored it for the time.

"It's just that, I've been killing people for three days," he said.

"Andrew, really now, we've known each other for fifteen years and never before have you pointed out the obvious like that. What is your real problem?"

Andrew walked towards the sealed windows as he said, "It's not so much what I have been doing the past three days, but more what I haven't been doing. It's been three days since starting the killings and," he turned to Jack grimly, "we've neglected the hit list.

Jack gasped, "The hit list."

The hit list. In the first issue of _KS Magazine_, September of 2012, the first page listed a number of names. The page was simply titled hit list, but everyone who read it knew very well what it represented: Kira's captors, their mortal foes. The names at the top of the list were printed in red with 'enemy' printed next to them, and the ones toward the bottom were in black with 'unfriendly' printed next to them.

"We've been killing people for three days," Andrew said solemnly, "and the people who were able to find and kill the first Kira are still alive out there somewhere."

"Damn it. I can't believe we forgot," Jack swore.

Andrew went and dug through a large box on his table and pulled out a nine-page pamphlet with _KS_ on the front. He opened it to the first page and read down the list of names on the hit list.

"Nate River, Touta Matsuda, Shuichi Aizawa, Kanzo Mogi, Hideki Ide, Anthony Carter, Stephen Loud, and Halle Bullook are the names in red."

"That's a lot," Jack said worriedly, "How are we going to get all of their faces?"

"I've mostly taken care of that problem. When I found this magazine I was just a teen, so I didn't know to do anything with it. But a few years ago I dug it back out, out of sheer curiosity, and looked up some of these names. Most of them are either with the FBI in America or the NPA in Japan. They're easy enough to find. But that Nate River guy is the one I'm worried about. I couldn't find anything about him, and he's first on the list."

"And we know it won't work writing his name in the Deathnote without knowing what he looks like."

"Yeah," Andrew said absent-mindedly as he went and sat down on his computer. "I think I'd better take care of the ones we know about, and make it our mission this week to find out who Nate River is."

"You know, I'm rather curious," Jack said, "If we can't find a single thing about this Nate guy, how did the writer of this magazine know his name to put on the list?"

"I'm thinking the same thing. How did he know to put any of them on the list?"

"Maybe he knows what Nate River looks like."

"That would be incredibly helpful if we knew who the editor was. We know less about him than we do about Nate."

"You two are taking this thing way too seriously," Kinddara said lazily as she rolled over on the futon.

"You have no idea what we're dealing with here," Jack turned on her, "If we let even the smallest clue slip about us we're done for! These guys were smart enough to figure it out the first time so we can't let them catch on to us this time."

"Yeah, but can't you just look up that magazine on that internet thing and find out the editor's name?"

"It's not that simple," Andrew explained, "The _KS Magazine_ is underground. Those who receive it know better than to publicize it. The only way to find out about it is if you're a true worshipper and you know another true worshipper who knows about it, and so on."

"How did you find out about it then?" Kinddara asked as her curiosity was piqued.

"Actually I got lucky. It was by total chance that I found it, and I wasn't even interested in Kira back then. It was in 2012, two years after the case was over, so I had kind of forgotten about it. I was fourteen and on my way home from school one time this guy came running out of an alley and tossed this manila envelope to me. I opened it up when I got home and in it was the first issue of _KS_. It was October, so it had just come out and not many knew about it. Then I showed it to Jack and we started to really follow what had happened, and it all led up to where I am now."

Kinddara looked at him upside down with a bored expression on her face and rolled back over to stare at the ceiling. "Well that's not very interesting. You really ought to learn how to tell a story better."

"We don't exactly have time to be telling stories right now anyway," Jack said irritably.

"Okay, here's the FBI's case file," Andrew said as he typed into the computer, "The Kira case is kind of low on the list now, ironically, but look; they already have a new file set aside for us. Makes you feel kind of special, doesn't it?"

"Not the kind of special I want to feel," Jack said.

"Alright, this should have on record all agents involved in the case. I can just access their personal data and it should have a photo attached to the file."

He clicked through multiple screens and eventually came to a long list of names with a subheading titled 'SPK-Special Provision for Kira' in one column. There were several names on the list, telling that many were no longer living, dead in action. There were three names in particular that were still living today: Anthony Carter, Stephen Loud, and Halle Bullook. He found links to each one's personal data, and each file held an ID photo from a year ago.

"This is it," Andrew said excitedly.

"I've got the notebook right here," Jack said as he brought it over.

"Halle Bullook," Andrew read aloud as he penned in each name, "heart attack – at twelve p.m. she will stop whatever she is doing and go to the busiest place outside her workplace she can get to within thirty minutes and die of a heart attack. Anthony Carter…"

"Why do they have to go to busy places?" Kinddara asked.

"That way we'll know if they die or not," Andrew explained, "If they die in their offices the FBI will probably keep it a secret to prevent Kira from finding out if they die. This way the news will get to them first."

"And you're having them all die at the same time?" Jack asked as Andrew wrote down twelve o' clock for Anthony as well.

"Yes, I figure it will have a bigger impact if the entire hit list dies at one time," Andrew responded excitedly.

"Shouldn't we take this a little more seriously?"

"The police are going to know it was Kira anyway, and this way we can potentially send a message to the subscribers of _KS_ so they know Kira is taking care of all their problems."

"These people would be more problems for Kira than the subscribers to _KS_," Kinddara remarked.

"It doesn't matter to them," Andrew said, "To them an enemy to Kira is their own as well."

"Exactly," Jack said.

At this point Andrew had finished with the FBI and was breaking into the NPA system. He followed the same steps as he did before and soon he had files on all four of the remaining hit list targets. He wrote in their names in the same manner, and within fifteen minutes the fates of all of the detectives on the previous Kira case besides the one known as Near were sealed. This was Andrew and Jack's first step towards dominance as the Kira entity, and the first alert to the rest of the world that this was 2004 all over again.


	5. Exhaustion

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 5 - Exhaustion

June 23, 2027- 6:36 p.m.

"Leave me to be alone for a little while please."

Near was upset. The last four days had been so incredibly exhausting he never thought it was going to end. The headquarters he had sloppily set up with a hodgepodge of officers selected in a rush had all their phone lines ringing off the hook. He himself spent most of his time locked in a small makeshift apartment they hid him in while reviewing the growing list of deaths and following the multitude new developments every day.

And what days they had been. This Kira was killing more frequently and indiscriminately than the first, and his standards for what was considered a punishable crime got lower and lower every day. Soon he was killing every criminal whose face he could get his hands on, from serial killers down to common robbers.

And that was just the start of things. The rest of the world seemed to lose track of itself in the slew of emotions. Half the world was beside itself with rage, practically putting on riots to convince their local authorities to do something; what to do, they hadn't a clue. The other half was, of course, regressing to the desperate state of dependence they had taken so long to emerge from, Kira becoming a god to them once more.

Amidst all of this, Near was at somewhat of a loss as to where to start. This Kira was noticeably less intelligent than the original, blatantly leaving tracks right to his location in what had to be Northwestern America, due to his killing of so many men broadcast only on local stations. He wasn't 

bothering to be even minutely discreet with his killing methods either, now that Near could start out with the knowledge that it wasn't limited to heart attacks.

And yet, Near could get nowhere. It was practically the lack of intelligible movement that threw him off, being too bewildered with each brash move to think about it more clearly. The most recent killing was the worst of all. Three days before the four members of the NPA in Japan and three FBI in America that survived as agents in the previous Kira case were killed nearly simultaneously by heart attacks, all of whom ran out into the middle of a busy street beforehand.

And so the only thing he was left with was a foolish person somewhere on the northwest coast of America with a 'loose trigger finger' with his notebook. This wasn't precise enough for him to get a good foothold, and he currently couldn't make any big moves being pinned down with the threat of death. The thing that worried him most right now was the fact that this Kira was able to find out within a matter of days each of the names and faces of those surviving members of the previous Kira case. The only ways he could do that were if he were in the FBI, very unlikely, or if he somehow managed to hack into the case file.

And so this is where we find Near now, in his small apartment sorting out his troubles with the new series of action figures that had just come in from preorder (a habit never to be grown out of).

"N, we have a message from the German police," came a voice from Near's computer.

"German?" Near asked distractedly.

"Yes, they're saying they apprehended a suspect related to the Kira case yesterday."

"A suspect of being Kira?"

"No, they say he was a worshipper who had incited a riot in Munich. But they have found very interesting articles of evidence in his house."

"Such as?"

"He has issues of a magazine dating clear back to 2012 titled _KS_."

"Which means?" he said slightly interestedly.

"Kira Society, apparently. It's a long-running underground magazine dedicated to Kira that has recently grown in popularity, as you can imagine."

"What type of content does one find in such a magazine?"

"Well, the ones we have here are printed in German, but it's pretty clear that it's international. They have various mail-in sections and lists of deaths and multiple special interviews with people who were 'saved by Kira.' But one thing we found particularly disturbing is the feature that allows people to write in a hit list of those they wish for Kira to target. We believe that this may be the cause of Kira's recent increase in small murders, such as targeting small-time thieves; he's simply knocking off peoples' mailed-in hit lists."

"That's very interesting," Near thought out loud. "So Kira must be a subscriber to his own magazine."

"It appears that way," the man responded, "Perhaps he was already a member before he found the notebook."

"That would be logical. It would mean that he is just a wannabe Kira that's trying to follow up on the original's motives, which also means that this should be a very easy case once we get things moving."

"But there is one more item of concern in one of the magazines, the one that just came out today."

"Save it for later. I'll get an escort to the headquarters and look at the magazine myself. Did he have every issue?"

"Yes, from one to one-hundred and eighty."

"Excellent. I'll read them all."

"See you soon."

--

Near arrived at the investigation headquarters in Indianapolis, Indiana at about seven o' clock. He was greeted upon arrival by seven FBI and CIA officials who were the members of the Kira Investigation Corps: David M: 5,9 with graying hair and 50 years old; Kathleen K: 5,4 with brown, curly hair and 29 years old; Tamara N: 5,5 with long brown hair pulled up in a bun and 39 years old; Logan E: 6,3 with short brown hair and a worn hunting cap and 27 years old; Kevin G: 5,8 with short graying hair and 49 years old; Paul S: 6,1 with ear-length blonde hair and glasses and 24 years old; and George V: 6,2 with neck-length, curly, black hair and 26 years old. Rather than use entire false last names, they simply altered their first names slightly and chose fake last initials. This way they had no connection to their previous identities.

"Long time no seen, N," said David who was also the man at the other end of Near's computer earlier.

"Indeed. It's been quite a weekend hasn't it?" Near responded as he walked to the thick stack of magazines setting on the large table in the middle of the computer-laden room.

"No doubt," Logan said as he and the others followed Near to the table, "His death count is up to 207."

"That's all in eight days," Tamara stated, "about twice that of the first Kira, especially this early on."

"That's because this Kira is a young man with nothing better to do," Near said as he picked up the top volume on one of the stacks, "He must live by himself and not waste any of his money on anything unnecessary, because he hasn't been to a job or school for the four days he's been active."

"How do you know he isn't just setting the death dates to make you think that?" Logan asked.

"It's the way the deaths are spread out," Near explained as he flipped through the magazine, "or rather, how they aren't. Throughout the day I'll see sixteen or so people die within a minute or two of each other, and then another group like that an hour or two later. There's a forty second gap between when the name is written down and when the person dies, unless specific circumstances are given and six minutes are added. And thus the way he kills people is as soon as he gets a short list of people he writes all of their names down at the same time. So I suspect he searches for names incessantly save for a few breaks, which would mean he would have to stay somewhere secure such as his home full-time. Of course, he could have thought that out really elaborately to bring me to this conclusion, but due to the lack of thought he puts into everything else I'd have to say that this isn't so."

"So it appears you have been able to piece something together in all the rush, huh?" Paul said.

"There was no piecing together involved in that," Near responded off-handedly, "It was, I assumed, relatively simple to think out."

"Well anyway, back to the purpose of our meeting, the magazines," David said.

"Yes, they are very interesting," Near said as he picked up a different issue. "You can see how their size fluctuates according to the era; the first ones closest to the first Kira's end and the most recent ones are relatively thick, while the majority from the in-between time is quite narrow, perhaps even nearly extinct."

"Yes," George said, "and you'll notice that the sections that swelled the most are the write-ins. The actual articles don't seem all that popular."

"I would imagine that to Kira the write-ins are the most important part," Kathleen said, "He seems narcissistic so he would enjoy hearing what good things his little followers have to say about him."

"More than that," Logan put in, "in recent issues they've dedicated a whole section to lists of criminals readers wish for Kira to kill."

"That would also be a major factor in the extreme amount of killing Kira has been doing, as I said to N earlier," David said.

"And you can't forget the fact that he's been stooping as low as killing criminals who wouldn't normally be punished with the death penalty," Tamara said.

"That would be related to the hit-lists as well," George said, "All the victims of crime out there who are easily prone to extreme emotions will feel that any of their personal wrong-doers will deserve death, so they see Kira as an easy outlet for revenge and send him common low-lives who really don't deserve it."

"And so we have three major factors in the 207 death count," Near said, "Too much time on his hands, the write-in hit lists, and willingness to do anything for popularity from his fans, including kill weak criminals."

"Which adds up to one big problem if we don't do something fast," Paul said, "If we don't stop him soon he'll move onto anyone that makes the slightest name for himself as a criminal."

"You're right," Near responded, "We don't have much time left it seems. And since those killings of the agents our own security must now become a new priority. No one is to know our names and if we can help it we must not leave this room. All of your information has been temporarily deleted from any of the case records and your own files. There's no way he can figure out what any of us look like as long as we're careful."

"But there's still one thing that I am extremely concerned about in today's issue of that magazine," David reminded Near.

"Show me."

David picked up the most recent issue and flipped it to the inside cover. At the top was a message directly from the mysterious editor:

_This message is for Kira:_

_I am extremely pleased that you have taken an interest in my humble newsletter, and am even gladder that you take all of your devout followers' pleas into consideration on your mission of absolution. I have recently learned that three days before this newsletter's release you were successful in eliminating the hit list I published in issue one. I am happy to have been of service to you in publishing said names, and hope that it aids you in bringing about a long-lasting reign over this crime-ridden world. There is but one name you certainly must have been puzzled about, for good reason. I request a meeting with your graciousness to aid you in your quest, and I assure you that he will be annihilated from the face of this Earth. Type in the name of your murder weapon and the name of the man you have yet to kill with no spaces then '.net' and you will be taken to a page in which you may e-mail me. Do so and I will send you __the instructions through a secure account. I will be eagerly anticipating your response and give you my loyalties for the time being._

_Editor._

"Give me the first issue," Near said urgently. When Logan handed it to him, Near almost fell over and gasped audibly. "I-I don't understand." The first name on the list was his own.


	6. Contact

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 6 - Contact

Still June 23, 2027

After more than a week of nonstop killing, Andrew Powers went back to work. Returning to the sales office of DMI Inc., he was met with much criticism over his calling in sick for a week as well as several cracks from his coworkers about him just staying home so he could kill people, Kira appearing as he disappeared. These were of course merely jokes, but Andrew took them to heart and realized what a flaw had developed in his plan. His absence and lack of activity over the last week had fit in perfectly with the pattern of deaths by Kira. And thus he faced his next dilemma: staging the death times to coincide with the pattern he already started.

If he could make it seem like Kira was constantly at home by writing in the times while he was actually at work during the day, he might save himself. But it was a pain. In fact, it was a pain merely figuring out if it would work. Kinddara may have tolerated being there, but she was by no means willing to assist him at all, keeping the rules a secret until he specifically asked her about some. The ability to alter the method of death came as an instinct judging by the fact that the previous Kira did it, but to find out about the rules of forty seconds and the like took days of coercing the Shinigami to spill what she knew.

And so, when he asked her if he could alter the time of death prior to using it on the FBI and NPA days before, the response came as no surprise. "I s'pose you could try it, but I'm not guaranteeing anything." Luckily for Andrew, it worked, and now he's already found another critical use for it.

That day of the 23rd, a Wednesday, was the third day Andrew had gone to work, and after he returned home he was sitting at his living room desk in the usual spot, the usual instrument of destruction resting in front of him, when his doorbell rang.

"Andrew, it's Jack," came the voice on the other side of the door. "It's urgent."

"It's unlocked," Andrew called across the room.

"You really shouldn't be doing that with the door unlocked," Jack sounded his usual nagging, "It's too risky."

"Don't you think I know enough about risk already?" Andrew responded.

"Never mind that, I've got incredible news," Jack said excitedly. "Did you get your new issue of _KS_ yet?"

"Yeah, but I haven't even removed Golf yet," Andrew said, referring to the fake front covers of _Golf Magazine_ they were delivered in.

"Well you'll want to be opening it soon, and get on the internet. It's important."

"What happened?" Andrew asked.

"This happened," Jack answered as he pulled out his own issue and opened to the inside cover. He began reading the letter from the editor to Kira aloud while Andrew stared at the page, stunned. "Do you know what this means?"

"Nate River…"

"And the editor can help us," Jack said eagerly.

"Calm down," Andrew scowled impatiently, "we don't even know who this guy is. How can we trust him?"

"How can you say that? He's been our source, our partner since before you even found that thing," Jack said as he pointed at the Deathnote.

"How do you know this isn't some ruse set up by the police?" Andrew questioned skeptically.

"A ruse that lasted fifteen years?"

"Did you ever consider the possibility that they could have captured the magazine and are using it against us?"

"No, honestly I didn't. I trust this magazine and this man, whoever he is. I have half a say in our decisions, so I say we should go through with this; go to the website."

Andrew stared at him, inwardly disgusted. How dare he imply a position of superiority to me, he thought, I can't stand it when he gets like this. Showing no change in emotion, Andrew spun around on his chair and rolled towards the computer, clicking on the internet browser when he got there. He typed 'deathnotenateriver' '.net' into the address bar as the instructions in the letter dictated and hit enter.

"I just had a thought, Jack," he said after he had calmed down a bit, "This doesn't seem all that secure. It wouldn't be unheard of for someone to get out the hit list and compare it to the names of the people who died a few days ago. They could easily figure out Nate River is the only person we didn't kill."

"Yes, but how would they know about the Deathnote? The police report only calls it a murder notebook, not its proper name; they couldn't know."

"The editor knew," Andrew said as the computer loaded.

"True, but the editor apparently knows a lot of stuff normal people don't," Jack said.

By that time the site had finished loading, taking the two men to a white page with black text. It said:

1) What race previously owned your Deathnote?

The two men looked at the screen blankly, not knowing how to react to this.

"Aw, come on, even you guys know this one," Kinddara startled the two men as she spoke for the first time since Jack had entered.

"Um, yeah, I guess we should," Andrew said hesitantly as he typed 'Shinigami' into the blank.

"I guess he did make it more secure; knowing how to get to the website isn't enough," Jack said.

After Andrew hit enter the screen changed to this:

2) What is the exact number of deaths by the recent Kira?

"That's not so hard," Andrew said, slightly relieved, "I've kept a record." He began to pull out a binder with a number and notes on the first page. "Two-hundred and eighty-five." He typed in the number and hit enter causing the screen to begin loading a new question.

"How does he know that?" Jack asked while they waited for the next question, "Not all of them were publicized."

"Who knows how this guy knows anything. We'll find that out when we meet with him." At that moment the next question popped up, reading:

3) How many people are currently acting as Kira?

If they were impressed before, now both of them were absolutely astounded. How could he know there was more than one person?

"Maybe it's a trick," Jack suggested, "Maybe he's tricking anyone who makes it this far who's not Kira into putting a large number down to weed out fakes. Maybe he thinks there's one."

"No, first of all people wouldn't make it this far if they weren't him or Kira, and second, he wouldn't bother asking that if he didn't know there was more than one of us." Andrew typed in 'two' and hit enter. Now a new window opened with an email address bar and message box.

"This must be the secure account he mentioned. What do we say?" Andrew wondered.

"Well for starters we should ask what we're supposed to do. He's left us with nothing so far."

"We should at least acknowledge his efforts to help us as well; we don't want to seem like we don't need him," Andrew said.

"I swear you two are trying way too hard to impress this guy," Kinddara chuckled, "You act like he's a god or something; strikes me as ironic."

"He's essential to us right now," Jack scolded, "If he didn't know what Nate River looked like we wouldn't care this much."

"You don't even know why Nate's a threat," she responded, "If that guy had put your next-door neighbor's name on that list he'd've been dead by now."

"She's got a point Jack," Andrew said thoughtfully, "We don't have any idea who he is, yet here we are spending valuable time searching for him."

"He was on the same list as those FBI and NPA agents from the previous case, so we have to assume he's dangerous."

"I guess you're right there, but it still seems odd to me."

The two proceeded to type a short and flattering letter that was instantly returned in another window with a message for them:

_Kira,_

_I know it is you; your responses to my questionnaire were identical to what I anticipated. I'll keep this brief: where we will meet in regards to your problem is a warehouse in Alaska thirteen miles outside the town of Kotzebue. I will have it arranged like this: if you travel the short distance to the Baker City Municipal Airport and arrive at noon of the 24th, ask for the special flight arranged for the Camphin party. They will direct you both to a small private jet that will take you on a direct flight to Kotzebue. From outside the airport, get into the green van outside the front entrance through the back door. It will take you to our meeting point. For security reasons your trip back will take a different route. Take the same green van back to Kotzebue and it will drive you to a port. Get on the boat with the word 'Camphin' painted on its side and it will sail you to a port in Northwest Washington. You are to arrange your own transportation from there._

They read the letter twice to themselves, amazed at the detailed description.

"Jeez that guy's cautious," Kinddara said as she read it once in the time it took the two men to read nearly three times.

"For good reason," Andrew said as he finished jotting down the directions, "It looks like we'll be heading for Alaska tomorrow."

"Heh, heh. He even knew where you guys lived," Kinddara laughed.

"Yeah, it's amazing. And it's all so sudden," Jack said, "What should I pack?"

"Nothing," Andrew responded, "We should be back within a day, if he keeps the visit short which I'm sure he will."

"I hope you're right."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it. I think for now we should call it a night."

After saying goodbye, Jack returned to his own apartment down the hall while Andrew sat down and ran his fingers through his hair, staring off into space.

"You seem distracted," Kinddara said flatly.

"Heh, wouldn't you be? Besides, not only do I have to deal with all this stress, I also have to deal with it with Jack."

"Jack? But you invited him into this. Shouldn't you be happy you have someone human to confide in?"

"You would think, wouldn't you Dara? But it seems he's just becoming an annoyance. The more he contributes to this, the more it makes me realize that this is a one man job. Yes, I've been worrying about this since the very beginning, but I'm glad I've finally decided to do something about it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get rid of him. I haven't thought it all through yet, but I know it will work out sooner or later, and soon Kira will be able to face the world again undaunted. If this world is to have a righteous king, Kinddara, it has to have _a_ righteous king. Not _some_ righteous kings. I will see to it that I am that king."

"You feel that strongly about it?" Kinddara started to laugh to herself.

"Much more strongly than a Shinigami could understand, Dara. I will be king."


	7. Abandoned

Sorry about the lengthening time gaps, but things have been busy and this one was kind of hard to write. I'll try to keep them coming more quickly with the next arc.

Another Death: the Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 7 - Abandoned

June 24, 2027

Andrew Powers was getting very agitated. The entire morning he spent what was supposed to be a monumental trip listening to the outspoken nagging, groaning, and complaining that continuously spewed from Kinddara's mouth. From the short car ride to the airport, to the three hour flight, and now the thirteen mile drive in the back of the prison-like green van, she had found nothing better to do than to carry on about her apparent boredom.

Jack was driven up the wall while Andrew was shutting his blood-shot eyes willing her to shut up. Now that they were alone in the back of the van and no one could hear them he was able to attempt to silence her for the first time since that morning. But it didn't work. According to her she suffered from hysteric claustrophobia, a ridiculously short attention span, and severe cramps when confined to small places. Andrew took those as mere excuses to continue bothering him when once out of the corner of his eye he spotted her giggling to herself in a pause from her incessant noise.

"That's it, shut the hell up!" he screamed a little too loudly, faintly hearing the anonymous driver yell something back from the other side of the thick wall that separated them.

"You're too easy, Andrew," she responded, her ruse being discovered. "I haven't been really bored since I saw how annoying this all was to you. It's actually quite entertaining."

"I thought you agreed you wouldn't do stuff like this!" Jack snapped at her from the corner he had been huddled in.

"You never asked me to stop," she said self-satisfyingly.

"That's because we couldn't," Andrew growled, "The one time I tried to tell you to knock it off the pilot thought I was going out of my mind."

"Well from the looks of things you are," she chuckled, gesturing to his eyes and messed-up hair.

"Look, we're almost there, can you just cut us a break until then? This meeting is important, and we don't need you interfering in it."

"What's so great about this guy anyway?" she asked nonchalantly as she gazed out the barred windows on the back door.

"I've been telling you that since five o' clock this morning," Andrew muttered. "I don't think it bears repeating."

"You know what I think you guys' problem is, you're taking this whole killing thing way too seriously."

"Don't start that again," Jack groaned.

"You come all this way to meet some worldwide cult-leader person thing you don't even know to kill someone you don't even know for doing something you don't even know what."

"..and on and on…" Jack said under his breath.

"Us Shinigami don't need titles like 'Kira' or whatever; we kill someone and say, 'Hey, that looks good to me, let's call it a day,' but no, you guys have to go on some big ol' mission or whatever and 'rid the world of its vile atrocities' I think is what you said the other day," she said with evident sarcasm while quoting Jack. "You guys need to lighten up; life's too short, and you believe me I know how short it can be."

"We know you do," Andrew and Jack replied automatically and simultaneously to the same rant they had heard at least twice before.

"Just last week you were furious about us even having your Deathnote, and now you're lecturing us on a regular basis on how we should be using it," Andrew said, "You need to make up your mind."

"Yeah, but that was when I thought I had everything up in the Shinigami realm. But now I see why Ryuk left; it's so airy and spacious-feeling down here, I might as well make myself comfortable."

"Who's Ryuk?" Jack asked.

"Oh, he's just a Shinigami who-" she was cut off by the trio being slammed forward by an abrupt stop.

"Get out," the driver called as he opened the back doors and walked away. "The warehouse is over there, I'll be waiting here when you get back."

The man shuffled back to the driver seat as the two visible men and one invisible woman stared at the large, rusted, metal box that barely looked like a structure anymore. What used to be windows had had the roof cave in on them, and if there had at one time been a second floor it was now rubble resting on the ground. The sole entrance looked from where they were standing to be bent to the point of no entry.

But their theory proved wrong as they approached and the doors somehow flew open, with two men in long, jade-green overcoats and hats standing in the doorway. "Приветствуйте он ждет Вас," said one of the men.

Note: that roughly meant "Welcome, he's waiting for you."

The three stood dumbfounded at the apparent babbling of the two mysterious men. "I think that was Russian," Jack spoke. The two men waved them through the door impatiently while the over-coated welcome wagon closed the doors and ran off somewhere outside. The inside of the large building looked even less promising than the out. Fragments of glass, scrap metal, and rather structurally-important-looking beams were scattered everywhere across the floor. The only thing that stood prominent above the rest was a small office desk in the middle of the ruin with a small lamp resting on it. Resting on the desk was a manila envelope with the word 'open' labeled on it. Other than that, the room was absent of anything or anyone.

"Where is he?" Kinddara asked as her built-up curiosity fizzled.

"It's deserted," Andrew said. "Why the heck would he take us all up here if he's not even going to be here?"

"What's in that envelope?" Jack asked a little more positively.

"It better be tremendous, whatever it is," Andrew said as he roughly ripped open the large container. Inside was a large PDA which turned on automatically when touched. Andrew examined it for a few moments and said, "All of its functions are disabled except the messaging system; there's one message in the inbox."

"Well read it," Jack urged.

Andrew touched a few buttons on the screen until a short message file was opened. Jack and Kinddara looked over his shoulders while he read it aloud, "Kira, I was unable to attend our meeting due to extenuating and unavoidable circumstances. I must inform you before I give you what you came all this way for that right now you are in more danger than you have thus far been. The man I warned you to kill who you know as Nate River is known more commonly to the rest of the world as L. This is the very same L character who seventeen years ago orchestrated the capture and elimination of the first Kira, the details of which are obscured. He is a private detective working through international police forces on this case as you are reading this, and he has recently seized copies of _KS Magazine_ from a man in Germany. He is very dangerous to your cause, and lives in secret hence you never having heard of him. I recommend that you deal with him as quickly as possible, and once you read this message send it back to me to receive a file that will help you do so. Another important object of concern is that you kill the list of names and faces of people I forward to you with the return message as they were all seized by the German police and sent to Nate River for questioning after they were discovered to own copies of _KS Magazine_. It is also possible that Nate River has predicted your general location as I have, so if you have any unnecessary copies of the magazine yourself it is recommended that you dispose of them in an indiscreet manner in case of searches. That is all the time you have. Send this message back and once you have used up the PDA place it in the barrel near the doorway to set off a set of explosives planted in this building. It is scheduled for demolition this week anyway. Until next time.

Camphin.

The two men reread the message at least two times before stopping and looking around the large room uneasily. "He set up explosives?" Kinddara remarked after having read the letter, "This guy really is messed up."

"So his name is Camphin, or at least that's what he calls himself," Jack thought aloud.

"That's not what I'm worried about," Andrew said, "We need to get that file; it must have Nate River's picture on it." He hit the forward button to find the address bar already filled in. After hitting send, another message instantly appeared in the inbox. Upon opening the new message, the three companions were staring at a screen with a long list of German names and their accompanying pictures.

"Do you think any of those is Nate?" Kinddara asked.

"No, those are the guys the police arrested. His must be on here somewhere," Andrew responded. He scrolled down to find the list longer than he had at first thought, until he reached the bottom where there was a picture with no name labeling it. "That must be it."

The picture was of a childish-looking young man with stark white hair sitting on the floor in an odd fashion. It was a scan of an old Polaroid picture, and also scanned in was a worn message in the white space on the bottom: 'Wammy House Record 2003, Near.'

"That's got to be him, but will it still work if it's from clear back in 2003?" Jack asked Kinddara.

"How should I know," she responded rudely, "I never have to kill people with pictures, who do you think I am?"

Before either could say another word, Andrew pulled the bright red Deathnote out of his inside coat pocket along with a pen. He set the PDA on the desk and stared at the picture for a few moments before engaging in the act of homicide once again in his life. Such a mundane business it had become for him, he never stopped to think about what he was doing. Such an act had never been so commonplace on Earth before, but now it was routine. It took a feat of such magnitude to make Andrew realize what he had become. And he liked it. With an animal ferocity, he wrote in blood-like ink the most important thing he had written or would ever write.

NATE RIVER. The red light seen only by true Shinigami's eyes enclosed the letters; his fate was locked in and irreversible. Elsewhere in the world a similar light would be encircling a certain human body.

--

Near was crouching in the same position he had been in for twenty-four hours now. Reading yet another thin volume of _KS Magazine_, his eyes betrayed no sign of lack of sleep. It had actually been about a week and a half since he had slept, having had to finish a previous case in record time in order to turn his full attention to Kira. Now he was perpetually tired, but in a way that he was able to do all of the thinking he had to if he focused enough.

"Look at this," Tamara called from across the crowded room.

"What is it," Near said with his eyes still glued to the page.

"In volumes sixty-three, seventy-four, eighty-six, and one-hundred and nine there are blow-out articles about Kira's return, and those are from some time ago. It appears that people have been waiting for this and every little death set them off on a newfound search for Kira."

"The people we are dealing with here are practically psychotic," Near responded disinterestedly, "Until recently only zealots and people who believed Yagami was a god bothered reading this, but after this man started up the standards instantly went down. Now anyone who has a desire for revenge considers Kira to be an ally, hence the hit lists."

"Yeah," Tamara said thoughtfully.

"Have you learned anything about this guy, Logan?" David said as he stretched with his own copy of a magazine resting on his lap.

"He's as hard to track as Kira himself, if not more," Logan returned, "At least we know what state Kira's in, this guy seems to travel all over the world. We've had reports of police discovering inactive printing machines in places ranging from a large warehouse in Russia, to an abandoned apartment building in New York, to a deserted theatre in Australia."

"He probably sets up shop in a few places at a time and then rotates," suggested David.

"Especially now that he has to increase production so much," Kevin said as he joined the conversation.

Meanwhile Near was looking very disturbed at an issue he had just moved on to. It was one-hundred and eighty, the most recent issue with a promise to Kira from the editor to assist him in killing Near. He read and reread the message silently while he thought about what the others were talking about. _It's obvious they're meeting in one of his old hideouts _he thought to himself _It's nearly impossible to single out any one building in the world, although realistically it would be somewhere in the United States. If this man really knows who I am he would want me gone immediately, probably sending Kira somewhere close by._

"Kathleen, you're certain the webpage has been terminated?" he asked the woman stationed at a computer across the room.

"Yes, Kira had to have gotten to it first, as by the time we opened the page yesterday the web browser couldn't find it."

"He's not very smart after all," Near said.

"Who, Kira?" David looked up.

"No, the editor. At first I was impressed by his cautiousness and method by which he went about contacting Kira, but he took a huge risk. He knew we would know how to access the page as well as Kira did, and had we attempted perhaps only moments earlier he might have had the police on his tail rather than his role model."

"You have a good point," David said, "But maybe he had some kind of security that only Kira could pass."

"There's nothing that would stop us that wouldn't stop Kira, of this I am sure. Between the editor, Kira, and us I think Kira is the least prepared. That's based off the fact that he's depending on a total stranger to pick his fights for him and the fact that he's led us right to his position within a week."

"You have to remember," Tamara said, "the first Kira did that as well for the original L, and he ended up surviving for several years."

"Yes, but I feel more confident about this case than the last," Near said as he stood up and paced across to the window. "But there's one thing that bothers me. Between the two of them they've killed over nineteen thousand people, and by the time the latest strives as long as the last it will have doubled. With all of our effort half of the world still condones this behavior, and another fraction admires it. Soon the situation will be the same as it was the last time and our group will have to work illegally. The further we progress the closer the world comes to being one-hundred percent Kira-tolerant. No matter how many mass murderers the world experiences and has exposed as selfish humans the figure of Kira will still remain as indestructible; there's nothing we can do about that."

"That's why we're working on ending this one's reign before that happens," Logan said.

"And if we can we'll try to prevent another one from being born," Tamara said.

"Don't you get it?" Near turned on them, "Kira has caused such irreparable damage to the world's psyche that whether or not criminals keep dying people will still see him as alive. He's coming closer and closer to being unstoppable."

"Why are you saying this all of the sudden?" David asked looking concerned.

"He's unstoppable. He's killed so many people," Near said as he stopped pacing, his breath picking up.

"Near, what's wrong?" Tamara stood up and approached him.

"He's killed so many, many people," he continued as he bent over. "So many, and I'm one of them."

"No, Near, don't say that!" Logan rushed forward to support him.

"Stay with us Near!" David crouched over him.

"Near!"

_Me…he killed me…I don't understand…_

Near!...Near…Near…


	8. No Competition

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 8 - No Competition

June 29, 2027

"Don't ever be so over confident, Zeke."

The Wammy House had been thrown into an uproar over the past four days. Due to his confidence in his own safety and his experience from the previous Kira case, it had never occurred to Near to bother with any of the prospective detectives back at his childhood home. Even in his down time he never paid any of his successors a visit to see who was capable and who was not in the event of an accident. And due to this lack of preparation, Wammy House's overseer, Patrick Knock, and his assistant, Rodney Nextar, were left with sixteen nominees eager to get started on a dangerous case, fifteen of whom wouldn't be able to go.

"Near may have been a great detective, but he never seemed to worry about his own well-being. Had he slowed things down a little bit he may have been able to see this coming. If you end up being the one chosen I'll be depending on you to not leave me in another mess like this."

When Patrick had finished talking to the tall, brown-haired boy wearing jogging pants and a long-sleeved, black t-shirt standing behind him, he opened a door at the end of the hallway to a large courtyard with a small mob of children ranging ages twelve to eighteen congregating in the middle. The boy named Zeke went and stood next to a shorter boy similar in appearance while Patrick stood at the head of the small group.

"So what do you think is going to happen, Zeke?" the shorter black-haired boy leaned in and whispered.

"I wouldn't know," he responded looking sullenly at the man busying himself with a smaller child.

"All right, everyone, may I have your fullest attention," Patrick suddenly called out as he shooed the child back in line. "You all know about our old pupil Near's tragic accident and the circumstances surrounding it, and you know that you all are the only sixteen left in our investigation program." This was interrupted by a brief murmuring and a few scattered cheers. "Now, wait just a second children," Patrick called, "I need your attention, I am not finished yet. You know all of that, but there is one thing you don't know: who Near chose as his successor, and that is unfortunately due to the fact that he didn't choose anyone."

The group broke into chaos filled with scowls, angry callouts, and perhaps even some crying from the younger members of the party. "Calm down! There is still hope left! Rodney and I have come up with an idea that will select someone reasonably enough, and we are also fairly certain that Near would have been happy with it. We will leave it up to you all to decide amongst yourselves via process of elimination."

If there had been uproar before, the entire courtyard now was filled with an explosion of bawling, fighting, and foul language. "Enough!" Patrick roared in his loudest voice yet, "If you are not going to handle this like mature adults then you will leave us with no choice then to choose for ourselves who is worthy to take on the L name, and we did not want to take up that task."

"You should, Patrick!" someone cried out.

"Yeah, narrow it down for us or everyone's going to choose themselves!" another shouted. Soon the whole group was chiming its agreement and Patrick and Rodney shared a grave look of understanding.

"If this is what you truly ask of us then we have no choice." At that point the two men turned around and muttered for a few seconds, then shared a simultaneous nod and returned to the group. "Zeke, Rico, will you two please step forward."

As Zeke and the shorter boy next to him walked up to the head of the group beside Patrick, the remaining children nodded their heads in seeming consent.

"Our unanimous decision was to bring you Zeke, sixteen, and Rico, also sixteen. Do you agree with our decision?" Patrick asked the group. All nodded their heads and murmured an okay. "Then we leave the rest of the decision making up to you. We will leave the courtyard for fifteen minutes."

The four of them went back to the hallway and leaned against the wall. "Zeke, Rico, we will return in a few moments. Whoever is chosen, I hope there to be no hard feelings, and also that he will handle the situation in as effective a way as possible. Good luck." With that Patrick turned up the hall with Rodney following and then disappeared into a doorway.

"Zeke, I hope that whatever happens we can still be friends," Rico said.

"Mm hmm," Zeke responded.

"And if I'm chosen rather than you then I want you to know that I have full intentions of letting you on the case anyway."

"Sounds fine."

"You and I can work on this together, even when I'm chosen."

"If," Zeke said.

"Hmm?"

"You said 'when.' I think you meant if," Zeke looked down at Rico.

"Well, I realize that it's not a one hundred percent type deal, but, and I mean this in the best possible way Zeke, I have a lot more friends out in that group than you do."

"This is a case of international importance and life-or-death magnitude; if those people choose one of us based on who they like better rather than on whom they know can do the job then they have no perception of what truly matters."

"But either way, Zeke, the answer falls on me. They should all know who can get the job done better; even you should be able to tell that."

"I'm sure…" Zeke sighed as he looked at the closed door.

Suddenly Rico grabbed Zeke by the collar and looked him in the face, "Listen, you better not mess this up for me. This is my time, not yours. You've had your chance long enough – everyone out there knows I'm the better candidate, but things always seem to fall into place for you. If you think you're going to get away with luck again this time then you're dead wrong."

"Luck is an insignificant myth invented by foolish people who had nothing else to blame their misfortunes on. It hasn't played any part in any of our successes so far and this one will be no exception," Zeke said as he brushed Rico off of him. "Whichever of us is chosen will have been so because of others' confidence in his ability and nothing more."

"You keep talking all serious like that, but I know how you really feel. You can't hide from it. Whichever one of us isn't chosen is finished; either one of us could easily finish this case alive which means there won't be a new L for a long time. It's now or never, and I'm not going to let never be my destination. I've worked too hard for that!"

"Are you ready boys?" Patrick Knock called as he appeared in the doorway down the hall.

"Yes" Zeke answered nonchalantly.

"Remember Zeke, now or never," Rico said under his breath as Rodney and Patrick opened the door.

"Children, have you made your decision?" Patrick asked as the four of them approached the group. "Remember the importance of the matter; don't let personal matters interfere in your choice. The lives of countless people are at stake and the candidate you elect could affect this moment in history forever."

"We have, sir," an older-looking boy stepped forward. "Almost all of us voted for Zeke to be the fourth L."

"So Zeke is your final decision?" Patrick asked as every child nodded his or her head solemnly. "Then Zeke, you must prepare for tomorrow. Things are going to start moving rather quickly."

"Mr. Knock, might I make a suggestion?" Rodney suddenly spoke up, "What do you say to one of us accompanying young Zeke to his destination while the other keeps a watch here?"

"I think that is an excellent idea. Zeke, who do you wish to accompany you on this case?"

"You," Zeke said as he pointed at Patrick.

"Then, Rodney, you will take my place as house overseer for the time being. We should make the arrangements in my office while Zeke prepares. You should really start working on…" he and Rodney started walking towards Patrick's office while the other children dispersed. Soon only Zeke and Rico were left in the courtyard alone.

"You've done it," Rico said, looking down.

"Yes I have," Zeke responded as he began pacing around in circles.

"I hope you're happy now," Rico looked up with a scowl on his face.

"I don't feel any different."

"You see! That's your problem. You don't deserve this job, or even this home. You don't even care about anything. You just take things as they come without any reaction, and now you steal something that mattered to me more than anything and you don't even feel any pleasure from it!"

"So you'd rather I gloat? I had nothing to do with the decision making process."

Rico was livid now, "You could have stepped down at any time! You knew how I felt about this, you still would have been able to work on the investigation; I would have made you my partner! But you ruined it!"

"I didn't say you couldn't be on the investigation team."

"No. It's not right. You got what you deserve. I obviously didn't earn being on that team, I certainly shouldn't take it upon myself to go against those brats' decision." With this he stormed up the courtyard with his back turned to Zeke.

"I'm not indifferent to this case. What matters to me is what should – capturing Kira and ensuring the protection of those that matter. You never cared about the things at hand; any other scenario would have been the same to you. That is why you were not chosen."

"Shut up!"

"There's no point in blaming anyone, you might as well come with me and drop it."

Rico kept walking further away. "Go! Leave me here!" With that he went inside and didn't say another word. Zeke walked calmly to his room and began packing his things.

--

Rico was sitting alone in his room with a framed picture lying next to him on the bed. He stared at the picture of two boys standing next to a five-foot tall, hand-built replica of the Eifel Tower with a blue 1 pinned onto it. The longer he stared the more it hurt. Zeke would be packing his things onto the plane by now, and there was no reason for him to stay any more. He had considered running away, considered living on miserably anywhere but there, but there was only one place he could think to go now to escape his sorrow and degradation.

He pulled the small case out from under the bed. He had indiscreetly stolen it from Patrick's office while Rodney was down wishing Zeke bon voyage. He opened the case and felt his tension flow from him. Throwing the picture at the wall meaningfully, the shattering noise soothed him as he picked up the revolver. _This is the end for me._

I felt sick when I wrote this chapter. Didn't mean to include an entire mini-drama, but I couldn't just say, "okay, this guy's the new one, nice to meet'cha." Character backgrounds are my favorite.


	9. Tension

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 9 - Tension

June 30, 2027

About as unsure of themselves as they could be, the KIC crew members exited the large, renovated apartment building. They had waited all week for this moment, but now they wish it could be postponed. It was hard enough having to deal with Near being replaced at this stage of the investigation, but to have him replaced by some inexperienced teenager was unheard of.

Outside the building they stood, apprehensive of events to come. They had made solid progress on this case under Near's wing, and then their efforts spontaneously evaporated. Having to uproot and move half the way around the country from Indianapolis to San Francisco, the last week had been spent renovating, transferring data, and scrounging together an entire new beginning. Meanwhile, as if flaunting his victory, Kira's death toll shot up in a short time to over 400. And now, intimidated as they were, they were eager to show him that Near wasn't his only obstacle to domination.

It was nearly ten in the morning that the cab arrived. An older gentleman climbed out of the front passenger seat and opened up the back. While he turned his attention to unloading bags from the trunk, a slender and brown-haired youth climbed stiffly out of the opened door. He had on white sweatpants and a black t-shirt with dark sunglasses blocking out the glaring rays of the mid-morning sun. Standing up straight now, he nearly met eye to eye with the tallest members of the taskforce, hitting about six feet.

Once all the bags had been unloaded he stopped and lowered his glasses to look at the group of people standing in front of the building. Examining each one of them expressionlessly, he seemed almost as unimpressed with what he saw as they did. Finally, to break free of the brief tension, David stepped forward from the group.

"You must be the one called Z," he said as he began to offer his hand, "Welcome to the headquarters of the KIC."

Zeke looked briefly at David's hand before presenting his own, shaking it slowly and awkwardly while he responded, "Thanks. Which one are you?"

"I'm David M," he answered as he turned to the gentleman, "And you must be Patrick Knock."

"I am, and it is a pleasure to meet you," he responded. "And you all as well," he said to the others behind David.

"Thank you, I'm Logan E," Logan introduced himself as he stepped forth from the huddle. All the other members then presented themselves in turn while Zeke stood silently before them.

Finally he turned to Patrick behind him and muttered too audibly, "There are a lot of them aren't there?"

"Zeke, don't be so rude," Patrick said to him, "You should at least talk to them."

"Yes, we should talk," he responded thoughtfully.

"I'll bring in the bags and catch up with you later," Patrick whispered as he grabbed an armful of suitcases and headed into the building.

The others waited awkwardly while Zeke stood there nearly motionless. Finally he said, "Are we going in?"

"Well, uh, yes, of course, we were just, well you know," David stammered as he was caught off guard. "Allow us to show you the new investigation headquarters."

"Are there computers?" Zeke asked.

"Of course," George interjected, "We have redone the entire top two floors to make two rooms dedicated to our network. We already have all of the files uploaded and transferred from our old place."

"What about food, that is to say, when's lunch?"

"Well, we could discuss this over lunch, that is we could eat now, if you'd like that is," David babbled.

"Okay," Zeke said as he walked at a steady pace in front of the group.

"So much for us giving him the tour," Paul muttered.

"He's kind of odd, don't you think?" Kathleen mumbled back.

"I'll say."

"So," Zeke stopped and said to the unwanted surprise of the two whisperers, "What's our friend been up to lately?"

"Our friend?" Logan asked, a little confused.

"You know, the guy who's always on the news, kills people and things like that."

"You're talking about Kira?" he said incredulously.

"Yes, he's the one. What's he been up to lately?"

"Well, the usual I suppose."

"What are you getting at?" Kathleen asked.

"Just a question," Zeke muttered as he turned and continued down the hall. They walked a short distance further before he turned yet again and asked them, "What about the magazine? Anything exciting there?"

"It's a killer's magazine!" Logan said irritably, "Of course there's nothing exciting there, just evil!"

"You've really lead an uneventful week, then, haven't you?" he said as he turned yet again to walk down the hall.

"Wait, are you trying to ask us about the investigation?" David asked.

"I assumed that was the purpose of this building," Zeke said.

"It's just you seemed so abrupt about it, and, well, you weren't very clear."

"Oh."

"So," he hesitated, "now that we're on the same page, no, nothing eventful really has happened this week. And a new issue of the magazine came out, but there was nothing monumental in it."

"How many pages did it have?" Zeke asked.

"One-hundred and seventy-two," George spoke up, "One-hundred and sixty of which were write-ins and hit lists."

"And last issue was how thick?"

"One-hundred and sixty-three."

"How do you remember all this?" Tamara asked disbelievingly.

"Someone's got to," Zeke answered for him, "So it's grown from week to week. What about the death toll?"

"437," Logan answered this time.

"Looks like that's grown, too."

"Yes, everything's grown since N died," David said, "As can be expected, he probably thinks he's won."

"Well, he has, hasn't he?" Zeke turned again and asked.

"What do you mean?"

"His goal was to kill Near and then kill a lot of people, and he's accomplished that, so logic would say that in his book he's won."

"But, it's not over yet-" Logan was cut off.

"I didn't say it was over, I said he's accomplished his goals and thus won in his own book. We have goals too, and our book's a little thicker than his if you know what I mean."

"So you're saying once we accomplish our goal of capturing him his victories won't matter and it will end in our favor anyway?" Paul asked hopefully.

"If you want to ruin the metaphor, then yes."

"Well I think our first order of business should be to-" David too was cut off.

"Wait, we need food first. Save that business for lunchtime."

Leaving David stammering for something to say for the fourth time that morning, Zeke then turned and left down another hallway that led to the kitchen and dining area. "Are you people not hungry?" he called behind him.

At that the bewildered group rushed after him to the large dining hall. Zeke sat down with one knee folded under him and the other sticking up so he could rest his chin on it lazily. After he had sat down he pulled a small headset from his pocket and called into the speaker, "Ichigo, could you bring me down my specialty please, spicy chicken today."

A voice came out from the headset that was revealed to be Patrick, "Certainly, Zeke. Would the others like anything as well?"

"Are you hungry?" he asked the men and women clustered around the table.

"Um, no thanks," came the response from many.

"Can he make me a sandwich?" Logan asked to receive an odd look from Kathleen and Tamara.

"Bring a sandwich of some sort."

"Give me five minutes."

While they waited many stood uncomfortably in silence around the long table until Zeke commented, "You can sit down, you know."

At that many took a seat looking relieved to be able to move. Zeke continued talking. "There is one thing we should clear up before we even mention the case. Were those names you told me outside your fake names?"

"Yes, we haven't mentioned our real names since the case started," Kevin answered.

"That's good. My friend Patrick will be staying with us so I believe it is necessary that he hides his identity as well. You can call him Ichigo for the duration of his stay. You may continue to call me Z or Zeke. Kira doesn't even know I exist yet unless he's in this room, so I may last a little while longer than your previous companion as long as I continue to be careful."

"You're not saying you suspect Kira could be among us, are you?" Logan asked suspiciously.

"I was merely making a point, nothing more, but no matter how far we are in the case it is not healthy to rule out a possibility not yet disproven."

"I would think us still being here would be enough to prove that we aren't Kira," David said.

"Near's face was well-protected from anyone in the world but this group, it would seem logical that once Kira got a hand on his real name he would set up a diversion such as a meeting with this editor to keep him thinking while he killed him. In fact, since both are so mysterious we can't rule out the possibility of the editor and Kira being the same man."

"It would be nearly impossible for that to be true," Tamara said, "The _KS_ Magazine's been around for fifteen years, and Kira a mere two weeks."

"Again, as farfetched as these theories sound now, there are many ways that could have fallen into place. We know the Deathnote came from a Shinigami, perhaps accidentally, so if the editor happened to be the one to find it, it wouldn't be impossible."

"But this is such a big jump, it's as if we've reduced ourselves back to aimless guessing after we've come this far."

"Exactly how much do you know about this new Kira?" Zeke asked inquisitively.

"Well," she said a little surprised, "We are quite certain he is in the Oregon or northern California area, he doesn't attend a job or school-"

"This already proves that your research is in its mere infancy," he interjected, "It was only the first week of his killings that Kira stayed home from his work or education. At a distinct point in time the thoughtless scattering of the daily deaths became more level and planned-out. It went from a few one hour and twenty the next to six deaths an hour every hour. It is clear that Kira realized a flaw in staying home from work and decided that it was too late to fix it so he tried to mimic everything he had done up to that point. It would have been safer for him if he had been less careful."

"W-We hadn't even noticed that," David admitted, stunned.

"Again my point is made. We can't rule out _any_ possibility, no matter how ludicrous, until we have absolute solid evidence to back it up. Anything else you have about him so far?"

"I suppose not…" Tamara said dejectedly.

"Then this is going to be a long couple of months. Seeing as such, I believe it would be for the best for all of you if you rested this week and weekend and visited with your families. I have some adjusting and settling in to do myself, so we would all be at the best of our abilities on the Monday of our return."

"Wow," Kevin said, "we haven't had a day off since this incident started."

"Yeah," Paul said excitedly, "I've been missing my kids like crazy."

"My home and fiancé are in California as well," Kathleen said, "He's been calling me every night, but it's not the same as seeing him."

"This is great, Zeke," David declared, "I'm sure this break will not be wasted."

"I'm sure not. But for now," he said as Ichigo brought in a tray with a sandwich and a spicy chicken flavor bowl of Ramen noodle soup, "we eat, or rather, Logan and I eat."

With the tension at last being broken and the group seeming to approve of each other, the others realized that they hadn't eaten yet. But Ichigo had already left the room, and Logan's foot long roast beef sandwich was taunting them cruelly. Zeke, meanwhile, scarfed his spicy soup expertly, quenching the burn with a tall glass of milk. Wiping the drool off their chins, the group managed to get up the nerve to summon Ichigo back with some more food for them.

After they had eaten at last, the ecstatic group said their temporary farewells to their new companion and headed down the hall to the elevator. Kevin and Paul broke off from the group talking about their plans for the big break.

"Yeah, my kids have called at least every other day, but I feel bad because I haven't always been able to answer the phone, and I miss them both so much," Paul was saying.

"Sometimes guys like you make me wish I had kids," Kevin laughed, "You make it sound so easy!"

"Oh, it's not always as simple as this. There are more upsetting things than missing a phone call."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"So where are you going to go over the weekend?" Paul asked.

"Well, seeing as my parents are on holiday in Honolulu right now, there isn't anyone really waiting to see me."

"Didn't you say you were postponing a visit to your cousin's place?"

"Oh yeah! I had forgotten about that. I haven't seen him in a long time. We had been planning it for a month, but certain things came up as you know."

"Oh yes, I know. You should give him a call, it'd be short notice but if he's been waiting to see you as much as you have then I'm sure he'd understand."

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll give him a call."

"Better sooner than later," Paul said.

"Yeah you're right, I'll call him now," and with that Kevin flipped open his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts list to the name 'Andrew Powers.'

--

This product came about after six restarts, and it still doesn't feel like it's my best yet.


	10. Work

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 10 - Work

Still June 30, 2027. 5:13PM

The KIC members rushed around the rest of that afternoon packing and preparing their things for the much-awaited weekend. It came as much of a surprise then when, just as some were waiting by the doorway for their rides, an announcement came over the sound system. "All KIC members please report to the main conference room on the second floor immediately." All of the people by the doors and still packing looked at their watches confusedly and disdainfully, wondering what could cause such a change.

The group made their way quickly to the destined room, leaving their prospects of relaxation at the door temporarily. George, being in the lead, opened the door first and saw Zeke sitting (one leg folded under and one up by his chin) at the head of the large table in the middle of the room sipping some Ramen Noodle Soup. "Zeke what's wrong?" George asked frantically as he and the others dashed in.

"I don't know, you tell me," he responded as he examined a noodle hanging off his spoon.

"W-Well, didn't you call us here for something urgent?"

"Yes."

"Then what happened?!" the lot of them cried simultaneously.

"What makes you people think there has to be a reason for urgency? It's bad for work output to hurry only when necessary."

"But it sounded important over the sound system, you said to be here immediately and everything."

"Yes, we have things to discuss. I would hardly begin to assume that those few things we brought up over lunch cover all of the information that needs to be exchanged right now."

"But I thought we were taking a break for the weekend," Kevin said.

"You are, and today is Wednesday. Your break starts tomorrow night."

"Oh, of course," Kevin said embarrassed, "I didn't mean to sound like I was complaining or anything."

"I believe it's a bit late for that. Please sit down." The group moved to a spot on the long table and found before each of them a thick manila envelope. "Thus commences our first CIP, or Collective Intelligence Protocol. These will be held every three days we are in the building regardless of how eventful or uneventful the previous days are, to gather our thoughts and further organize ourselves as a collective pool of intelligence and investigation skills."

"Isn't the whole purpose of this building to be on the same page without things like this though?" Tamara asked skeptically.

"Even in the most cohesive structures it is impossible for this many people to work together in absolute perfect understanding. If we are to minimalize causalities by Kira by figuring out who he is in the most efficient amount of time then we must keep each other informed of any and all developments, and even things that may seem as trivial as minor opinions. If there were three or four of us than this wouldn't be so necessary, but because we are working with a body of eight separate individuals it brings like thinking to a whole new priority. In other words, there's too many of us and we have to think as if there weren't."

"Of course," David affirmed.

"Excellent," Zeke said, "So bringing me to our first order of business, our essential security."

"I had thought we had taken plenty of measures to hide our identity under Near," Logan commented.

"Near had no plans of leaving a single enclosed space prior to the completion of the case, and thus simply changing your identities was sufficient to keep you all, or rather most of you, safe. But as you know I have already slated a collective step outdoors within the next few days, and in the real world simply saying a fake name isn't enough."

"What could possibly happen to us related to Kira that a fake name wouldn't protect?" Kevin chuckled.

"Kira is everywhere, Kevin. He isn't just some magical entity that can clog your arteries anymore; he is in people up and down every block, in major political leaders, and even in your friends and neighbors. The magnitude of what we're dealing with here isn't confined to this structure and the news and internet. Outside it is an entirely different picture, and as we take more time to progress on this case the world's psyche takes more steps toward deterioration. So yes, fake names prevent us from Kira heart attacks, but suppose that this weekend the United States granted Kira amnesty and there was a riot of sorts around your vacationing spot. Or perhaps you're in the vicinity of a major Kira death and you don't have your cell phone or PDA to contact anyone and you find yourself stuck in a bad position. All of these things are possibilities, which brings me to the envelopes you'll each find in front of you."

They each looked down in front of them, some starting to open them up. "Inside of these envelopes are several individually wrapped packets, each containing a small patch of what appears to be skin. In actuality these patches are highly sensitive pieces of technology that could be the key to your 

survival in some situations. I want you all to have one connected to you at all times, especially while outside of this building. Place it in a place you'll be able to reach, but won't bump during the day such as your lower back or something. When in danger, all you need to do then is place any of the printed parts of your fingers against the patch and a message will be sent to our network – that includes the main computers here, Ichigo's PDA and all of your cell phones and laptops. The patch reads only your finger prints and also has a tracer that allows us to pick up your location in both address and latitude longitude upon being activated. You'll find in the envelope three years worth for each of you. Hopefully we won't need them that long."

"Astounding pieces of technology," George said as he held one up for examination.

"No kidding," Tamara agreed as she looked at hers.

"So," Zeke said as he pushed his empty bowl out of the way, "moving on. Oh first, any questions, comments, concerns pertaining to these patches?"

"Will you be wearing one?" Logan asked.

"I don't personally have much intention of leaving this place unless necessary for the case, and if I do I will always bring one of you or Ichigo with me, so no."

"What if whoever's with you dies and you're left alone?"

"I have my own means of self-defense, and as for the said person being killed by Kira, well, I haven't said _my_ real name since I was four. I think I'm covered."

"What kind of self-defense do you know?" Logan persisted.

"I'm good with a gun, if you must know. If you're this concerned with my safety perhaps you should just be the one who comes with me at whatever instance."

"I think that there's no other man for the job if you put it that way," he said proudly.

"Fine. As long as we are on the subject of what we'll do in the event of an attack by Kira or otherwise, I think there is one major thing we must affirm."

The others looked at him with interest as he went on, "The previous Kira left the world in a dismal state. Sure, it was okay while it lasted with such a low crime rate and all, but they were at a loss for what to do in his absence afterwards. Several nations put their citizens under martial law for some time and began locking up people for being for _and_ against Kira. It was chaos. Kira's vengeance period is what I call it, as the death count of more than just criminals shot up in the ensuing destruction. Since then order has of course been restored and Kira zealots persecuted. But now this new guy comes along, and people are scared; they're scared that this one' s here to stay, or if he's not then there will just be another. These nations that have taken such steps to eliminate any traces of the old Kira are worried that their structure will fall before the newest followers. And thus the predicament we are faced with here is far worse than the last. The time it will take for the entire world to submit to Kira will be cut in less than half compared with the first one, and it will be wholly out of fear and terror rather than respect. Kira worshippers will easily replace normal citizens in political positions, and being against Kira will be a dangerous state of affairs."

The others looked away sullenly at the thought of it. "And so I am left with two major precautions: one, upon the return from your weekend off we will officially become underground. I feel that it is best to do this in advance of such occurrences to prevent the nation from coming down on us before we are fully prepared. And second, if we find Kira, know exactly who he is and have him in our sights, I am afraid to say that by that point turning him to whatever police are left is out of the question. His fate must remain in our hands alone because we will be the only true justice left on the face of the Earth. And what he has done merits the death penalty. I believe you know what I mean by now."

David looked up seriously, "We have to kill him."

"Without hesitation."

--

Still June 30, 2027. 7:00PM

That evening Jack Johnson made a special trip to Andrew's apartment. Having just learned from a friend of his that the nation of Ukraine was pledging allegiance to Kira's supremacy, he found the occasion fitting to stop in and celebrate. To his surprise, though, after letting himself in through the unlocked door whilst complaining about security, Andrew sat at his desk staring at the spot he entered the room. There was but one small lamp on in the room, and the TV and computer were turned off.

"Um, Andrew? Is something the matter?" he asked timidly.

"The matter?" he seemed to snap out of a trance, looking slightly surprised at something, "No, nothings the matter at all. What's the matter with you? It's not Saturday."

"I just came to tell you some good news," he said slowly as he entered the room and put a dish he had prepared down on the table, "Why is it so dark in here?"

"I was napping, actually, and you caught me in a daze."

"And you're positive nothing's wrong?" he asked very concerned.

"Well, there is one little thing, but it's not important."

"We've been through this, nothing's unimportant if it concerns either of us. I've told you all of my concerns, now don't hold out on me."

"Well, it's just that I'm going to have family probably coming into town over this weekend, and it was so sudden it just kind of surprised me, is all. Nothing important, like I said."

"Oh, really?" Jack said more brightly, "Who's coming?"

"Oh, just my cousin Kyle."

"Kyle? Isn't he…"

"The cop? Yes, but it's not a problem. We've got no worries; we'll just have to keep things on the low side for a few days."

"Do you want me to take it while he's here? It might be safer that way just for a few days."

Andrew felt a wave of nausea fall over him, with eager anticipation welling in his stomach at the same time. "Take it? Oh, yes, that, the notebook. Well, uh, yeah, sure. That sounds like a good plan to me. A good plan."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jack asked uncertainly.

"Yes, like I said, I'm fine, just a little surprised."

"Okay, well now that that's over I'll tell you my news. Vince over on Eighth Street just told me…Ukraine…monumental news…Kira…"

Andrew found himself losing complete interest in what Jack was saying as the message cousin Kyle had left for him replayed in his mind over and over, filling his thoughts and cluttering his subconscious. _Hey, Andrew, it's Kyle. Sorry about the sudden change in plans, but work's been really interfering lately. You'll never guess, and I probably shouldn't say this on an answering machine, but I've been working on that darned Kira case. It's horrible, isn't it? Well, anyway, I just wanted to ask you if _

_this weekend, maybe on Thursday or Friday, if I could pull into town for a couple days to fill up my break. Just give me a call back and let me know. I'll be waitin' to hear from you, bye._

_The Kira case. Who would have thought I could be so lucky?_ Andrew thought to himself. _When he pulls into town, it may work…_

"Andrew?!" Jack shouted, "Are you even listening? This is huge stuff! Kira is being accepted all around the world! Yesterday almost the entirety of South America said they'd halt anti-Kira campaigns, and now it's happening in the Middle East and Asia! Isn't this uplifting to you at all?"

"It's brilliant," Andrew said quietly more to himself than to Jack.

"Man, you look tired. Maybe you should take a longer nap. Or just call it in early tonight. I could take that book a few days early to give you a break if you want."

"No, I'll hold onto it until Kyle comes, thanks anyway though," he said just as absentmindedly.

"Whatever you say. You can just keep this lasagna and give me what you don't eat later. You know where to find me."

"'Night."

"Later."

Jack walked out the door and Kinddara made her presence known for the first time that night. "Boy, you almost stepped in it this time. Do you know how on edge you were just now? He probably thought you'd committed murder or something."

"This is no time for dumb jokes, Dara," Andrew said more coherently as he got up and walked over to the couch. "This is amazing. I'd even go as far as to say the moment I've been waiting for this whole time."

"What do you mean?"

"Jack, Dara, Jack. This is my opportunity to do away with any extra hindrances dragging me down, Jack included."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Kyle is working on the Kira case."

"So?"

"More than likely, there wouldn't be a large force working on a case like this, and the only people working on it exclusively would be those few that Nate River probably had clustered around him. That must mean that after he died the investigation didn't dissolve, and Kyle is one of the ones still working on it. He's my plug to the inside."

"And so you know someone, related to you at that, who is working as we speak on hunting you down. I'm still not finding any letters that spell success in that situation."

"Don't you see, Dara? The answer is right in front of us. Kyle is coming _here_. If he sees someone other than me killing someone with the Deathnote then he'll have no choice but to lead the investigation after that person."

"How are you going to pull that one off?"

"It will all become clear for you in time, Dara. I'm sure it will be easier for you to figure out if you just sit back and watch than if I try to explain it now. All I'll need is the Deathnote and Kira will be free again."

"So long as I get something to do instead of just sitting around this stuffy place."

"Oh you'll be entertained, don't worry about that. But for now there's work to be done."


	11. Visitors

A/N: Sorry about the lack of communication last chapter, but I get so excited about having a new one done I forget to add these in here. We're up to the double digits, and the second arc is pulling towards its climax! Things are getting easier and easier to write the closer I get to the parts I already have planned out, so updates will remain pretty steady. I have been known to hit random roadblocks, though, so if I ever seem to just go away bear with me - this shant be abandoned for any reason! I'll finish it on napkins if I must. Well, here you go!

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 11 – Visitors

July 1, 2027, 5:17PM.

Kevin G was dropped off in the parking lot of the large apartment building after another busy morning. Having their plans interrupted yesterday, the KIC members were forced to change arrangements, repack, and rearrange rides all morning long. Kevin, real name Kyle Powers, had to cancel and buy new train tickets as well as get a new taxi. But he made it, albeit a day later than planned, and was already heading up the stairs.

He arrived at the proper door number on the balcony, when a man with very long, black hair and slightly outdated glasses approached from just down the hall. "Hello, you must be Kyle!" he said amiably with his hand extended. The smile spread across his face was so wide it pinched his eyes shut.

"Um, yeah, hi. And you are?" he responded uncertainly.

"I'm terribly sorry, how rude of me! I just come up shouting your name without even introducing myself. I'm Jack Johnson, Andrew's neighbor and coworker."

"Oh, yes Jack. Andrew's told me about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm Andrew's cousin, Kyle, but it seems you already know that."

"Yes, he told me you'd be arriving today. He's not actually going to be in for another ten minutes or so, so he asked me to invite you in until he gets off work."

"That must be on account of the sudden change in plans I pulled. Work held me, you see. I hate to be a nuisance."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, don't worry," he said as he waved Kyle into his own apartment. _Andrew will be back from work soon _he thought _then it will be easy to keep this guy entertained while I just keep the notebook for the weekend. Things will go very smoothly if they keep up like this._ "This is my little place, I know it's not much but you should make yourself at home."

Kyle walked over to the couch as he looked around at the dull room, with no decoration more extravagant than a framed painting of a pond and geese. "I see, uh, you and Andrew share tastes in interior design," he commented as he recalled his last visit to Andrew's nearly identical home.

"Oh yes, I don't put much thought into my apartment; so long as I can eat and sleep here it's good enough for me. Did you want anything to drink?"

"No thank you, I'm fine."

"So work's been keeping you busy lately?" he called as he came from the kitchen to sit down.

"Yeah, it feels good to get out after being stuck in our office for two weeks."

"That must have been rough. What could you possibly do in a police office for two weeks straight?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it."

"Of course, sorry."

"No, you didn't mean it." Jack awkwardly took a drink as Kyle sat watching the news. The headline read: Kira Ends Gang Attack on New York Shopping Center with Minimal Injuries. Jack quickly turned the channel.

"No need to watch that stuff on your visit, is there?"

"No, I see enough of it everywhere else."

Just then the front door opened up to a tall man with brown hair. He looked up and let out a moan, "Oh God, Jack, don't tell me you're boring the man."

"Of course not, Andrew; he hasn't been here long enough yet."

"Andrew!" Kyle said as he stood up, eager to get out of the conversation with Jack. "It's good to see ya."

"Good to see you too Kyle," he responded as he gave his cousin a brief hug, a mask of joy on his face. "Hey Jack, we're going to head over to my place for now. Feel free to come over once you're done with…whatever it was you were doing tonight." He shot him a brief glance as he led Kyle back out onto the balcony.

Jack nodded back, "Of course."

"Hey Andrew," Kyle said as they walked towards the door, "I was thinking. If you didn't have anything planned for tonight we should go down to that fantastic restaurant you showed me last time. You know, the one down in Lincoln City."

"Um," he hesitated. _This isn't expected. He needs to be at my apartment at 8:30, otherwise the whole thing will be for naught. Lincoln City's not more than a thirty minute drive, it's 5:42 now, if I make sure we don't stay long I can still pull it off. He'll be suspicious, or at the very least upset, if I try to deny him a good time. _"Sure that sounds good. I love that place too, but would you be terribly upset if I had to be back home by 8:20? There's a show starting at 8:30 I was looking forward to tonight you might be interested in."

"That sounds fine; it's not so great that I could stay for hours anyway."

"What is anymore?"

"You got that right."

The two of them got into Andrew's car and drove down to their new destination. Upon arriving Andrew checked his watch again. _Only 6:18 _he thought_ perfect. If I keep this up the night will only go as planned._ Seated at their table, Andrew continued his perfect façade of normality, and asked what any normal curious citizen would ask someone with Kyle's occupation.

"So what is happening with the Kira case?" he asked in a notably low voice.

"Andrew, you know I can't tell you about that. People are staking their lives to crack it and I could be jeopardizing their security by simply bringing this up."

"Aw, c'mon Kyle, it's just me. What harm could I possibly do? I'll keep the lips zipped perpetually, I swear."

"No, I'm sorry but that's out of the question. Especially in a public place. The case is not allowed to leave the headquarters, and for all I know my boss could even have me tapped," he said, feeling his upper thigh where he had applied the patch that morning.

"Is it that extreme?" Andrew asked innocently.

"Andrew, the maniac's killed almost five-hundred people in little over two weeks. And the worst part is, people are starting to like him for it. Yes, it's that extreme, our crew isn't going to simply let us tell everyone what we've been up to, we could get discovered and killed. I personally don't like the thought of being Kirad."

"I'm sorry, Kyle, I should've known better. I won't bring it back up." _Ironic, he doesn't want to be killed by me. But who's this boss of theirs? It certainly can't be Nate River, he's dead. I can't ask __anymore though, or he really will get suspicious._ The two ate their dinner while Andrew periodically checked his watch. Finally, at about 7:40, Andrew finished up and suggested they get going. The drive back was slightly rushed on Andrew's part, making Kyle a little nervous as they passed cars on the highway pulling eighty. "So, uh, is this show of yours that important?" he asked as he held the handle on the ceiling.

"Yeah, I've been looking forward to it for a couple weeks now," he said with a smile, "It's a retrospect of the first Kira's killings, with inside reports from the police and everything. It's the first public unveiling of some very interesting facts is what the commercial said."

"Hate to break it to you, Andrew, but that's probably a load of crap. The police haven't divulged anything about the previous case, the method, suspect names, anything. They certainly wouldn't pick now of all times to start."

Andrew slowed down to the speed limit and looked disappointed. "That's a shame; it sounded pretty authentic on TV, too. Well there goes my plan for the night, you wanna go back and find a bar?"

"No, really I just need some rest. We can go back and watch it anyway, I'm sure it will be interesting."

Andrew grinned to himself and kept driving forward. _Excellent. He doesn't suspect a thing, and we'll arrive with ample time for Jack to come and visit._ They arrived at almost quarter after eight, and Andrew got out with the keys left in his ignition.

"You forgot your keys," Kyle said as Andrew kept walking towards the steps.

"Don't worry about it, I leave 'em in every night. This is a trustworthy neighborhood."

"Whatever you say," he dismissed as he followed him up to the apartment.

_8:18. It's almost time. _"You want anything to snack on or drink?" Andrew called from the kitchen.

"I'll take a beer if you have it, but no food." Kyle sat down on the recliner in front of the TV. "That place filled me up, I think I'm good for the rest of the weekend."

"Ha, really. That steak was enormous. Not so good on the wallet though; I'll have to run to the bank tomorrow."

He sat down with two bottles and handed one to Kyle. He flipped on the TV and checked his watch again. _8:23, any minute now._

"So how's work been going for you?" Kyle asked as they waited through commercials for the fake program to start.

"Boring. I was in sick for a few days a couple weeks ago, but that was more fun than staying at the office eight hours a day."

"I imagine. Offices bore the shit out of me, and yet here I am living in one," he said dismally as he shook his head.

_8:27, three minutes. _"But at least it's for a good cause."

"Yeah, you got that right. I just wish the whole thing was over; it's a stressful job. But here I am bringing it up again after that terrible scolding I gave you. Shame on me."

"Don't worry about it, you didn't even say anything I didn't know." _8:30. Bingo, here it is._

"Hey, what's this?" Kyle said. "This is some stupid infomercial, where's the special you told me about?"

"I don't know, what a crock!"

Just then Andrew's unlocked back door that led to the hallway burst open and Jack Johnson entered. In his hands were a pen and a bright red notebook. "You are both evil in the eyes of the god Kira! You shall be punished for your transgressions!"

"Jack!?" Andrew cried, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Andrew Powers!" he shouted as he scribbled in his notebook, "Your cousin has condemned you! Die at almighty Kira's hand!"

"No!" Kyle roared as he pushed his finger against his thigh and pulled a handgun out of his jacket. "Drop the weapon!"

Jack continued to write fervently with a twisted sneer torn across his face.

"Drop it or I swear I'll shoot!"

"No!" Andrew ran to tackle Jack, but fell short as he tripped over the rug while clutching his chest. He squirmed on the floor for a few seconds before dropping and staring lifelessly up at Kyle.

"Andrew! Damn you!" But as he pointed the gun back up at Jack the man fled out the door he had entered. Kyle began to give pursuit, but stopped in his tracks. He dropped the gun, and on some innate impulse ran out the front door to the balcony and down to Andrew's car. He opened the still-unlocked doors and started it with the keys left in the ignition. He then proceeded to drive with full speed toward San Francisco.

--

Zeke followed the odd tracer on the screen with interest. "Ichigo, were you able to contact Kevin yet?"

"No, he activated the system an hour ago but his phone is turned off. I've had the others head to the location the system was triggered, though."

"No. Have them come here."

"Here, Zeke?"

"Yes. His location on the map has been heading toward our San Francisco office steadily since he activated it. I have no idea why he wouldn't just call us, but there is something not right that needs to be addressed."

"How quickly should I summon them?"

"Immediately and as soon as they can get here. He seems to be in a car, so he won't arrive until early tomorrow morning, perhaps three or four. Have them come by the fastest and most convenient means available."

"Yes sir."

--

July 2, 2027, 2:57AM.

Kyle drove rapidly towards the building all night long, arriving early the next morning as Zeke predicted. By that time only David, Kathleen, and Logan were able to make it to the headquarters, and the lot of them were standing with Zeke and Ichigo outside the building. They saw the sports car speed up the road and pull sloppily up to the curb, Kevin G as he was known to them staggering out looking shaken.

David ran to catch him as he stumbled towards the group. "Kevin! What happened? Is it Kira?"

"Y-Yes!" he said between heavy and labored breaths, "Yes! Kira! I saw him! He killed my cousin, he attacked me! It was Kira! I s-saw him!"

"Please calm down," Zeke said as he approached.

"J-Jack Johnson!" he continued on nonstop, "Jack Johnson! Apartment number 22 of 1341 Fourth Street in the town of Nelscott, Oregon. Jack Johnson! Apartment number 22…"

"Kevin! Kevin! Snap out of it!" came Logan's fruitless attempts to stop him.

"Enough," Zeke said to him, "Damn, he can't stop. Someone write down what he says!"

"J-Jack Johnson is Kira! I saw it! He killed my cousin! Jack Johnson, apartment number 22 of 1341 Fourth Street in the town of Nelscott, Oregon! Jack J-J-John-urg!" just then the man collapsed and stopped moving and breathing.

"Kevin!" came the desperate shouts from the three KIC members. "Kevin!"

"Oh my God, he's dead!" Kathleen cried out, looking away.

"Jack Johnson…" Zeke said thoughtfully as he stared at the sight crumpled on the ground before him. "Jack Johnson…"


	12. Succesful Failures

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 12 – Successful Failures

Still July 2, 2027, 4:02AM.

Andrew Powers sat quietly leaning against his kitchen cabinets while sipping on the coffee he had just made. The back door was still kicked in, and the front where his houseguest had fled in a state of insanity still standing open. By the latter were a single suitcase, a raincoat, and his shoes, prepared for a rushed flight.

"Surely it must have happened by now," he said to Kinddara, who had been hovering near the window staring at the spot Andrew's car was once parked.

"I wouldn't doubt it, if it even worked."

"Are you kidding? You saw the way he sped out of the parking lot in my car, only one destination on that guy's mind. I kind of feel bad about using him now though after seeing his reaction to Jack killing me. It's a shameful waste, yes, but wholly necessary."

"What do you suppose Jack's doing now?"

"I don't know, he shouldn't do anything until the police arrive. Then it will get entertaining for you again."

"Will we finally be able to get out of this stuffy place?"

"I happen to like it, thank you very much. And yes, we will definitely have to leave. No point in an innocent neighbor sticking around a crime scene longer than he has to. Bad for his image."

"Like your image could get any lower."

"My image is the most esteemed around the world right now, Dara. People love Kira more and more every day. This success will only prove my point to those idiotic policemen chasing after me, that I am indestructible. Once this is over they will be back to nothing: no suspects, no location since I'll be moving, and no chance of catching back up to me. They wouldn't have even made it this far if I hadn't led them on with Kyle's help. They are really worthless; they probably wouldn't have done much better even if I had left Nate River alive. The fools.

Kinddara watched the whole tirade wearing an amused face, starting to chuckle towards the end. "Boy, you sound so over-dramatic right now you can't even know."

"I knew you wouldn't understand, but it doesn't matter, you'll be essential enough to keep me company once Jack's gone."

"So that's all I'm worth now?"

"Nah, you can still help me figure out more rules for this book when I need 'em."

"I'm glad I'm held in a place of such importance to you."

"So am I." And with that he lied down on the couch and put his feet up. "I'm going to rest for awhile. Tell me if anyone, police or not, shows up. Better yet, just wake me at nine; it might be a good thing to get out a bit in advance."

--

Still June 2, 2027, 11:41AM

The remaining KIC members arrived at the headquarters periodically throughout the morning while those already there ran the babblings of Kevin's last moments through the computer system. As it turned out, the person whose name he shouted so madly did indeed exist, and the accompanying address was his dwelling. Jack Johnson of Nelscott, Oregon, 1341 Fourth St. Apartment number 22, within a few minutes going from nonexistent to lead suspect as a serial killer.

Zeke, Ichigo, and all those KIC members that still lived left immediately in a convoy of sorts – seeing as Zeke's plan to go underground and separate from the police was not yet in effect they openly accepted the aid of official authorities to move in on this man. In their own vehicles and surrounded by an immense police escort, the group sped unhindered up the freeway to the town in question, arriving in the early afternoon.

The convoy set up a blockade with a five-block radius around the apartment building, not able to make a move until the KIC gave the word. They were huddled together behind the front line, discussing matters amongst themselves.

"It is almost certain that Kevin was being controlled this morning," Zeke was saying. "We know from the last case that victims of the notebook can be manipulated to a certain extent prior to actually dying, and the way he acted indicated that he had little to no control over himself. That being said, there is an immense possibility that we are walking directly into a deadly trap. Do we want to risk this so brashly?"

The six individuals looked at each other in turn, seeming to reach mutual consent. "This is the first actual lead we've had since the case started," David said, "Whether or not it's a trap is irrelevant; if we refuse to act on this who knows what kind of move Kira would make in response. I believe that it is extremely risky, life-threatening even, but whatever he's got going on holed up in that apartment must be stopped."

"Do you all agree?"

"I think it's now or never," Logan responded.

"Then we give the word. You will all be involved as well – we move in to the apartment rapidly and arrest its resident or residents. We'll worry about finding out which one, if any, is Jack Johnson afterwards."

"Right," they said in unison.

David went and muttered something to the chief of the Oregon State Police, and upon being prompted the man talked into the headset wrapped around his ear. The massive blockade moved in a well-orchestrated wave, swarming the building like ants. Every stairway, doorway, window, and fire escape was occupied by at least five men, and the chief himself, accompanied by Logan and a handful of FBI agents, approached the door marked '22' cautiously. One of the agents was waved on by the chief and he moved to kick the door in.

Just as the heavy wooden door crashed to the ground, the officers surged into the room. Sitting alone in the room, rocking back and forth while clutching a bright red notebook, was a man with long, black hair that looked untended and a pair of broken glasses. The FBI agents who had first moved into the room kept their weapons constantly trained on the man while the lot of them moved to arrest him. Within seconds the man was strapped up in every possible way as well as taped across the eyes and mouth.

They carried the man out roughly, the notebook handled delicately by Logan. He spoke into the headset to the KIC members still at the blockade line, "One suspect has been apprehended; his identity is not yet confirmed but he was found to be in the possession of a red notebook. The apartment was otherwise confirmed to be empty. The rest of the building is being evacuated as we speak."

Zeke listened with interest to the sounds of success in the background, or so he hoped. "Excellent. Bring the book forth; I want to examine it immediately."

The others gathered around Zeke as Logan approached, George shuddering at the sight of the sinister instrument of death. Logan handed the article over to the detective, who before even bothering to open it looked up and around thoroughly. He then proceeded to rush over to the apprehended suspect. The man was still tied to the point of immobility and was surrounded by armed officers. Zeke looked around the man at every person standing there, up in the air, and all around the vicinity. Suddenly his expression showed shock and mild amusement. "This notebook isn't real."

"What?!" the group exclaimed.

"It's a fake. There's no Shinigami anywhere around here. I know this much from the first case: Near proved that if someone who used this notebook is around, there will be a Shinigami. There isn't one to be seen."

Just then the arrested suspect started squirming, screaming something insatiably. "H-He hasn't moved since we arrested him!" one of the agents guarding him cried.

"Let him talk."

The man hesitantly undid the tape across the man's mouth. Instantly he cried out, "Stop! Please don't arrest me! I'm being framed! I'm not the one; I'm not Kira!"

"Are you Jack Johnson?" Zeke asked fervently.

"Y-Yes, I am he, but I'm not Kira!"

"Tell me who then."

"It's Andrew Powers! His name is Andrew Powers and he's framed me! He lives in this same building!"

Suddenly all heads turned towards the apartment building. "Zeke!" David and some others cried out.

"What the hell is going on!?" Paul shouted, holding his head.

Jack Johnson was shaking violently before collapsing on the ground moments afterward. "Good God, he has no pulse!" the agent groaned.

"Zeke, look!" David continued to cry.

All faces once again turned back to the apartment, now for different reasons.

"The building…" Zeke said.

"Oh no!" Paul carried on.

"…it's burning."

--

Andrew stood up on the hill some distance behind the building, overlooking a large pond. The blatant ferocity contorted his face, looking as though he could scream. "No! How could this happen! I don't understand what went wrong!"

He turned around lividly towards Kinddara. "You! You said this would work!"

"No, actually, you're wrong there. If you'll recall…"

--

The day before Kyle Powers arrived at Andrew's apartment he sat at his desk with the Deathnote open before him. He had it all planned out, down to every detail, but it would only fall into place if certain conditions were met.

"Now let's double check everything, Dara. I can't afford for a _single_ thing to go wrong. This is my last chance to not only get rid of Jack, but to allow for the trail I've left to evaporate."

"You're that confident in this plan of yours?"

"Only if these rules you've told me about for the Deathnote are accurate. It would be so much simpler if things were less strict, but that's not how it works and so you're my lifeline to make sure I don't slip up."

"I'm telling you you're putting faith in the wrong person here, but whatever you say."

"Firstly, we have the whole thing about control. What you can make people do with the Deathnote is limited, correct?"

"Only to what is physically possible in your world, like not having them go to the moon and die or something stupid like that."

"And you can't have them say or do something they wouldn't be able to normally, like say something they don't know."

"Yep."

"What about the court systems?"

"What about 'em?"

"Say for example, someone commits murder, ample evidence is around him to prove he did it, and you set it up so the police have reason to suspect him; would the Deathnote be able to kill him by means of death penalty?"

"How should I know that? You're getting so complicated lately, it's as if you think that I think about killing people as I do it. It's not this hard up in the Shinigami realm!"

"But it makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, if someone did something worth the death penalty in real life and was caught that's how they'd be punished. Why should life with the Deathnote be so different?"

"Well, I guess it shouldn't, so I guess it could work, maybe."

"That's not the answer I hoped, but perhaps the one I expected. I wish I had time to test this thing, it would be so much safer if I knew for sure."

"I say you wing it, 'cause it makes sense to me."

"I wouldn't be winging it much if I tried everything that made sense to you," he muttered under his breath. "But you're right, the death penalty is the only way it could fall into place without the police suspecting Jack's death to be caused by Kira. I have to lead them to believe that it is Jack who's guilty until he is dead before I resume my judging of criminals. That will really throw them off, perhaps permanently."

"So are you going to do it or what?"

"Yeah, I have to have it ready before Kyle comes; luckily he just called me back and told me it won't be until tomorrow that he arrives, something came up at work."

"Makes you wonder what they're working on now doesn't it?"

"Yeah, actually, it does. But none of their progress will matter after this weekend. It will be pretty eventful…"

--

"But I don't understand!" Andrew moaned, "Everything I wrote in the notebook happened right up until they arrested him; then it's like he regained control and told them everything! Even my name! The traitor…"

"Now, don't get me wrong here, but you're the one who sentenced your best friend to the death penalty for something you did so you could get away from the cops."

"Damn it, shut up Kinddara! I'm not in the mood for your crap!" he stormed away to the edge of the pond, thinking. "I could hear from the tap I put on him that one of the officers that arrested him had the notebook. Then that guy came over and took it, that guy who said it was a fake. How he thought about the Shinigami I will never know, but…" he trailed off, fiddling with the binoculars and radio he held in his hands.

"Kinddara!" he suddenly shouted.

"What is it now, you gonna yell at me about that guy now, too?"

"If the conditions for death written in the Deathnote stop being met at any point before the victim dies, what happens to him then?"

"Well, everyone already in the notebook has to die, so if they can't die the way you write they just have a heart attack. I already told you that."

"That's it! When that guy discovered that the notebook was a fake, Jack could no longer be sentenced right then and there, so he just reverted to having a heart attack after forty seconds, giving him just enough time to get a hold of himself and tell them my name, the rat. So it's that man's fault! I hadn't planned on anyone figuring out about the fake notebook, and they wouldn't have been able to test it…"

"Wow that really sucks for you then. The tiniest little thing threw the whole deal off."

Andrew stood silently for a few moments, looking through his binoculars at the blazing building being extinguished by a newly arrived fire helicopter. _I wonder what they're thinking now _he thought _they must be confused regardless of whether the entire plan worked out, even if they know my name there's still a way out. This diversion might actually work to my advantage after all. That man…I must find out who he is. I know someone who will definitely be able to help me there…_

"Dara, I'm changing my identity."

"Heh, what, so they can't find 'Andrew Powers' anymore?"

"Exactly. I'll grow my hair out and die it red, perhaps a beard, too. My new name I'll have to think about. But then we'll have no choice but to never return to this town, or even this region."

"So where are you going to go? Just do the same thing you've been doing just with a different name and in a different building?"

"No, I've got another idea right now. We're going to be doing some traveling to meet a friend of mine."

"What friend would that be?"

"The editor of _KS Magazine_."

"Heh heh, what are you going to get from him?"

"Well I've obviously got to change my mailing address for the magazine," he said as he walked back up to the top of the hill.

"That's it?" Kinddara asked disappointedly as she hovered after him.

"Not quite."

The two stared at the extinguished building for a moment in silence. "You know," Kinddara said, "the whole fire was a nice touch."

"Thanks. I didn't want to have to detonate the bomb unless I absolutely had to, but I think the occasion called for it."

"So do I."

--

Deathnote entries:

Jack Johnson: Death Penalty

On July 1 at 8:30 PM will take the fake Deathnote in his possession and come to apartment 25. He will then write into the note 'Kyle Powers' and 'Andrew Powers.' Within the next day or two the police will find reason to arrest him on charges of murder, and he will receive the death penalty at the earliest convenience of America's court system.

Kyle Powers: Heart Attack

On July 1 at 8:34 PM will find most convenient means of transportation to his workplace and upon arrival tell whoever is there that Jack Johnson is Kira and then Jack Johnson's full address. Will then die of a heart attack after repeating these things three times.


	13. Thoughts and Plots

Another Death: The Andrew Powers Case

Chapter 13 – Thoughts and Plots

July 6, 2027, 9:02AM

"It's confirmed."

George was reading over a document on the computer screen in front of him intently. The others in the room rushed over to cluster around him and read the same document. The sheer relief and excitement on their faces dulled the exhaustion and unrest that had been etched there the past weekend. Replenishing their focus after their failed strike on Kira, questioning the residents of the now-torched building, and figuring out Kira's reasoning behind the unexpected deaths of Kevin and Jack Johnson were the highlights of their 'weekend off.' Add onto that the tireless search for information on Andrew Powers, the severing of ties with the police and government as Zeke directed, and latest relocation of their headquarters, and the workers felt as though they not only had skipped a vacation, but undid any they had had in the past.

However, though taxing on their morale and health, these activities accomplished much. The KIC's position of esteem in the eyes of the authorities was shaken after their attempt at capturing Kira, so their timing at moving to underground work was impeccable. While before they were left with shot-in-the-dark guesses at a mysterious Kira's whereabouts, now they had a definite pair of names to research. Until then the sole point of interest to the case were the repetitive global deaths, now they had two intriguing strikes to examine more closely. And finally they had to worry about being hounded by Kira directly now so their move to a new building in Redmond, Washington was wise as well.

They took no further risks of their members being exposed. As much as it pained them, they conceded to not go outside again unless necessary to the case until it was finished. They had one day to inform their friends and relatives of the change, and agreed not to contact them after that. Now they were locked in their new, however more spacious, headquarters with no contact to the outside other than through Ichigo. Even then it was limited, as he was merely a half-way point who relayed information he received from his various contacts.

His most recent escapade was particularly useful – he was the sole person able to contact Jack Johnson's workplace, DMI Industries, and his neighbors, recently relocated from the torched building. The information discovered about him was not at all interesting: he was seen by all who knew him as an average bachelor, working forty hours a week in the sales office; honest, reliable, and trustworthy, if a bit reclusive. He was a regular attendee at the local Lutheran church, volunteered often, and never let down a friend; in other words, incredibly trivial and boring facts that got them nowhere. The most interesting thing they found was from a middle-aged lady living next to him - that he had been fast friends for fifteen years with his neighbor from two doors down, Andrew Powers. He was always seen over at his apartment on the weekends, and the two were often seen in public together. His frequenting of his apartment had increased over recent weeks, however, and soon he seemed to be stopping over at least every other day. Stranger yet, on the Thursday of the 24th, the two of them had disappeared for a day and a half, and eyewitnesses recorded seeing them boarding a plane at a local municipal airport.

And thus the KIC's search was once again led to this new name, Andrew Powers. The one Jack Johnson accused of murder with his dying breaths, and the same one he had been friends with for fifteen years. How randomly the name had appeared out of nowhere, having spewed from the mouth of one suspect and instantly becoming another. The KIC had spent as much of their time researching him as they could muster over the weekend, but found that their other priorities inexplicably pushed it to the back of the list. Now, refocused and prepared anew, they poured all of their resources into tracking down this man who had disappeared from the apartment the day it burned down.

"Yes," George was saying as they all read off the screen, "this must be the man. We've found him."

On the screen was an employee information page from DMI Industries, the very same company at which they had found Jack Johnson. "It would make sense that the two would be coworkers, wouldn't it?" Paul said as he read Andrew Powers' personal data.

"I'm a little surprised we didn't think to look for him here when we first found out they hung out," Logan commented.

"We were all a little caught up in the moment then," George said, "Had we been thinking we probably could have caught this man before he had four days to travel. He could be anywhere in the world right now."

"Let's not get so hasty, we don't even have any proof he's related to Kira," Logan responded.

"It's practically right in front of us. The fact that Jack Johnson accused him before he died should be enough to base our theory on, and add onto that his fifteen year relationship with Jack, a Kira suspect, and their disappearing together around the very same time Near ended up dead and I think we have a legitimate suspicion here."

"Suspicion, yes. Proof, no." Logan said.

"You have a point. The whole thing is screwy. First Kevin visits his cousin and suddenly comes back controlled by Kira, then we find the man he says and he puts it off on someone else. Who's to say the whole lot of them isn't being controlled to lead us in circles? What if we put the effort forward to find Andrew and he ends up being a fake too?"

"You shouldn't say stuff like that, George, it hurts morale."

"Yeah, well I-"

"That's it!" Paul suddenly exclaimed as he shoved George out of the way excitedly.

"Hey, what's the big idea?"

He started scrolling through Andrew's information and went down to his references listed on his original résumé. He found one to be his father and the other his cousin. "Look at that. One of his references is his cousin. The two of them must have gotten along well for him to reference him over his other relatives."

"What does that have to do-?"

"Don't you see?" Paul continued to interrupt. He traced his finger along the name of Andrew's cousin, Kyle Powers. "Kyle. Am I right in thinking that all of the fake first names we chose start with the same letter as our real first names? I know mine does."

"Well," George said tentatively, "mine does, I don't know about the others'."

"Mine does," Logan agreed.

"So does mine," came David.

"And I'm sure the pattern will follow with Tamara and Kathleen then, as well. But get this. _Kyle_ Powers is Andrew's cousin. _Kevin_ G went to visit his cousin and wound up dead. Are you seeing a connection here?"

"Are you saying you think Andrew was the cousin Kevin went to visit?"

"Yes! It would all fit! And that would make our suspicion against Andrew that much more well-founded. Just think – we'd have his connection to Jack, Jack's accusation, his mysterious Thursday disappearance, and his cousin in the KIC!"

"It makes perfect sense." The response made all four men's heads turn to the door to find Zeke listening there. He was bouncing a blue racquet ball while seeming to stare off into space. "Jack Johnson and Andrew are obviously connected, so it would be odd for Kira to throw in someone random like Kevin. He must be connected as well, and this seems all too convenient." He continued to bounce the ball as he stared up at the glass ceiling.

"So you think it's possible?" Logan asked.

"I think it is very likely, especially if Andrew Powers himself was really Kira. As George pointed out before he too could be merely a pawn to throw us off course, but as things are falling into place I find it harder and harder to believe that anyone other than him could be in such a position to manipulate those people so easily. Andrew was in the best position to find out Kevin was in this investigation."

"Yeah, we may be sworn to secrecy but Kevin was talkative and could easily have let it slip while making conversation, especially if he trusted his cousin."

"But I don't see even him telling any of Andrew's neighbors or friends," Paul said.

"Exactly," Zeke responded as he continued to bounce the ball, "He is perhaps the only suspect we have left. I request an inquisition into everyone connected to him – any family he has, all those neighbors from the building not yet questioned, and all of his coworkers. This won't be enough for Ichigo to handle efficiently by himself, so I'm leaving you four in charge as well." The four men nodded in response. "But before we move any further I need to talk to everyone together. It's the ideal time for our second CIP."

He pocketed the ball and pulled out his small headset. "All staff please report to the main conference room immediately. Ichigo, I would also like a bowl of shrimp flavor, please."

David, George, Logan, Zeke, and Paul then walked down to the large room to see Kathleen and Tamara already waiting there. "We were just down the hall," Tamara explained on seeing their surprised expressions. "Find anything?"

"Yeah," George said as he sat down at the table, "Andrew Powers was Jack's coworker at DMI Industries."

"That's great!" Kathleen exclaimed. "That means we have people to ask there now, too."

"I suppose so. But the other thing we learned is even more exciting: Andrew may have actually been related to Kevin."

The two women looked shocked, but before speaking of it any further David asked them, "What have you learned?"

The others sat down around the table expectantly as Tamara pulled out a file folder with photographs and small, charred scraps of paper in it. "Oh, um, ours isn't nearly as revealing as yours but…" she trailed off as she pulled the top paper out of the folder, "…first of all we have confirmation that the bomb was set off from Andrew's apartment. And if that wasn't enough, he attempted to burn some evidence he left behind simultaneously by piling it around the detonation point. Fortunately for us, he failed miserably, as there were several scraps remaining large enough to easily be identified as none other than issues of _KS Magazine_."

"Excellent!" David said excitedly, "That's more damning evidence."

"But really that's all we've found. Ichigo questioned almost all of the other residents of the building, but none said anything more interesting than what we've already heard."

"Are there any remaining residents left to investigate?" Zeke asked through a mouthful of noodles.

"There would be two apartments, but one's residents died in the fire. It was a single father and his son and daughter."

"Hmph," Paul grunted distastefully, "Whether or not he's really Kira we can at least arrest this psychopath for arson and manslaughter now."

"But hopefully we'll be able to get him for mass murder at the very least," Zeke continued, "Who else is there?"

"The only other living resident not yet questioned actually can't be found."

The others cocked their heads curiously as they listened on. "His name is John Jackson - purely coincidence, mind you, he's of no relation social or otherwise to Jack Johnson - and he lived one floor above Andrew. But he left one week before these happenings, his neighbors said on a business trip, and never came back. We looked all over for him, but we can't locate his place of employment or his family, and he apparently had no social life as his neighbors informed us he was quiet and kept to himself."

"Sounds suspicious to me," Paul said.

"And it sounds too convenient to me," Zeke shrugged off the notion. "I must now request that you all listen carefully to the following. Andrew Powers is now the presumptive Kira, the evidence has grown irrefutable. Whether or not he is _the_ Kira must be considered irrelevant and his capture must be made priority. This is all so for the following reasons: one, he has been longtime friends with another Kira suspect and taken part in recent suspicious behavior with said suspect; two, he was at one time or another in possession of pro-Kira paraphernalia and made a destructive and illegal attempt to dispose of it. The fact that he had it set up to destroy said paraphernalia with a remote device from a distant location on the all-to-coincidental date of a serious police investigation into the very case he is suspected to be involved in only deepens the meaning behind the action. Three, he is presumed to be closely related to a member of our investigation team who was killed in front of us by Kira. Prior to his death, however, he supplied us with a lead to a suspect whom we had never heard of up to that point. Four, upon investigation of our new suspect we discovered him in the possession of a fake death notebook, and soon he too died. But to put a topper on it all, this suspect also gave us a new lead prior to his own death to the very man we are speaking of now, Andrew Powers. Anyone here care to bring forth any argument as to why Andrew should not be considered an extremely likely suspect?"

The KIC looked seriously at him and shook their heads no. "Then allow me to continue," As he said this he pulled the same blue racquetball out of his pocket, "The way things are set up, I can clearly see what Mr. Powers' intent was with these two killings and all of this spontaneous action. This was a way of escape for him, but for one reason or another it failed. He must have intended to use his cousin in the KIC, our late member Kevin, as a way to put Jack under full suspicion. He drove him down to our old HQ, almost positively under direct control of the death notebook, to tell us of Jack's involvement prior to his death, knowing we would act upon the lead and set up a search for Jack. Too easily, we found the man at his home with a death notebook. Had this book not been a fake, it would have been ample evidence to place him under arrest. But I brought up the lack of a present Shinigami, and tests later verified the fact that it was indeed not real."

"So perhaps Andrew expected us to arrest Jack Johnson while he had enough time to escape and continue his killings elsewhere," George suggested.

"I personally believe that that was his intended scenario, but something went wrong."

"Maybe Jack was originally collaborating with him in his plan, but when Andrew saw him start to talk he wrote his name in the real book and killed him," Paul said.

"But this raises the question as to why a man would willingly give himself up to the death penalty for his friend who obviously cared nothing for him…" Zeke said thoughtfully as he began bouncing the ball.

"There are extreme Kira followers out there," Logan pointed out, "and if Jack was one of them and discovered Andrew was Kira then it wouldn't be out of the question for him to sacrifice for him. Then perhaps he lost his nerve and started to back out, thus causing his premature death at Kira's hand."

"But something doesn't fit…" Zeke continued to bounce the racquetball until he suddenly caught it in midair and looked around at the other investigators. "We can't limit our assumptions to those ideas that fit into our normal logic. We're dealing with a supernatural device, so some of the assumptions we make must as well be supernatural. The book has rules; many, many rules. What if we were to assume that Andrew Powers' plan didn't succeed due to a flaw in his interpretation of these rules?"

"Then we give ourselves next to no limitations;" David said grimly, "We don't know enough about that book or its rules to understand how they would fit in with Andrew's plan."

"You may be right, but wouldn't it be interesting if it were Andrew that fouled up? It would open so many possibilities for future occurrences, knowing he made such a monumental mistake could work to our advantage upon confrontation. If only we had the book; there would be so much we could learn…" Zeke began bouncing the ball again as he trailed off and stared ahead. _So many limitations for Andrew to learn _he thought_ It could easily become confusing. If his own mistake was what threw him off…_

"It just strikes me as painfully ironic," David suddenly burst out. "We were in the building, perhaps within miles or even _yards_ of his location, of Kira's location, and we tried to arrest the wrong man. It's not the fact that he was able to think this far ahead that bothers me, or even that he was able to escape; it's the fact that we were _there_. If we had known what we know now just hours sooner this could be over. We could be done. "

"But we're not," George spoke dismally, "and until we are we can't bother dwelling on our past lack of success. We learned much from this folly, and we can use much of that knowledge to our advantage. Perhaps if we keep up at this rate we can catch him before his casualties reach one thousand. He's only at around 700 right now-"

"Only 700?" Kathleen shouted incredulously, "I never thought I would see the day on this earth when one could describe a single man's death toll as 'only 700.' It took entire terrorist organizations years of work to pull that one off, and this guy's done it in…oh God, how long has it been anyway?"

"Three weeks tomorrow," Logan responded sullenly, "And the worst part is that he's done the majority of that number in the past few days. He can set the death times, so perhaps he wrote down over a hundred names in advance in case his plan fell through."

"Well it didn't even entirely fall through!" she went on furiously, "And he went and did it anyway! He got what he wanted, he got away from us, we have no goddamn idea where the hell he is, he might as well have succeeded. If he's so damn vile that he'll kill his friend to get away from his own sins then what effect is us chasing after him going to have? None, that's what!"

The young woman put her head down miserably, Tamara leaning in to console her. Zeke was not feeling quite so sympathetic however, "You're talking nonsense. Us chasing after him and capturing him is the only thing left that will have any effect on him because ultimately it will mean his death, which is exactly what this world needs right now. They don't need this madman holding them in a grip of fear, they need some sense slapped into them. I was too young at the time, so I don't remember how things were during the original case, but I've been told some pretty bad horror stories." The others nodded their consent, remembering from experience. "I only know what state the world was in post-Kira, and it took some time for several nations to recover entirely. It doesn't matter if we catch him before his death toll hits a certain point, it simply matters that we catch him, period."

"When we catch him then," Kathleen said after she regained her composure, "I want to see his death personally. I don't want to miss the show."

--

Still July 6, 2027, 3:45PM.

The red-headed, bearded man walked into the small café with his flat-screen computer under his arm. He walked clear to the back of the business and sat at a lonely corner table, away from all other patrons. His Shinigami flew behind him unseen and fluttered down next to him at the small table. She looked over his shoulder somewhat interestedly as he turned on the computer and went to the messaging center.

In a low voice, he muttered to the creature beside him, "This is it, Kinddara. Camphin the editor hid a message in last week's issue of _KS_ that only I would have been able to decipher that relayed how I'd be able to contact him. You remember what the men at his old warehouse told us after we left and detonated the building?"

"Yeah," she replied, "they said you'd get an emergency contact message or something in a code in the magazine, and you got that a few days later."

"Exactly. I knew I'd find a reason to contact him eventually, and now will be the perfect time. I've just got to send him a message to the address I discovered, and I'll have him as a powerful alley once again."

"What do you want him to do for you this time?"

"He's going to set the stage for Kira's triumphant return to supremacy, that's what."

"But you wrote three pages front and back in advance, so people don't even know you're gone right now."

"Yes, I wouldn't have had to do that if my plan had gone through without a hitch. But it is a mild setback, because even though the population sees my prescence now, they're going to tell something's different upon my return. I know I'm gone and that the Deathnote's just doing all the work itself right now. That doesn't feel right, but I don't just want to phase out and back in as if I were never gone."

"That's funny. Most people would hope for that situation."

"I want to come in with thunder. The world's going to notice how much they missed me, or at least those people 'hunting' me are going to wish that I was still gone."

"I guess I have something to look forward to then?"

"Oh, you'll have a show alright. You'll have quite a show."


End file.
